


Duizelingwekkend (or The Archer and the Naiad)

by angelboygabriel



Series: Schreibner’s Grimoire [1]
Category: SKAM (Netherlands), WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Allusions to MI, Archer Robbe, Bigotry Free Society, F/F, F/M, Fairytale Vibes, Fantasy, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, Magic, Medieval-esque AU, Mixed Boy Squad and Mixed Girl Squad, Mutual Pining, Naiad Sander, Secret Relationships, Sexual Content, Skamverse easter eggs, Witch Lucas, magical sicknesses, underwater kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24133759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelboygabriel/pseuds/angelboygabriel
Summary: Deep in the forests of northern Belgium, Robbe lives a happy life with his friends and family in a village on the outskirts of Nordforêt. When an encounter with a ferocious wolf leads him to a mysterious spring, Robbe finds himself drawn to the captivating boy who lives there.On the other hand, Sander can’t help but fall a little bit in love with the charming human who keeps falling into his spring.
Relationships: Noor Bauwens/Engel Beekman, Robbe Ijzermans & Lucas van der Heijden, Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans, Zoë Loockx/Senne De Smet
Series: Schreibner’s Grimoire [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767967
Comments: 30
Kudos: 114





	1. July Wolves

**Author's Note:**

> 1st- So this is my first full length fic that I have ever written! This is a MOSTLY completed work... meaning I have content and an outline for every chapter, but some of the later chapters I’m still finishing up so I will be aiming to post an update every weekend if possible. This initial chapter will most likely be the shortest, as this story was originally only this chapter until I decided to extend it. I hope you enjoy, and as usual I love to hear your feedback! Also, in this fic, the characters are around 20-23.  
> 2nd- This was originally a Skam France fic but now this is a skam nl and wtfock fic because I said so <3 You’ll see what direction I’ve chosen for Lucas and Eliott instead later in the fic.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discoveries in the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all and welcome to the first full length Grimoire verse fic! If you’re joining later or have been keeping up from the start, I hope you enjoy!

Robbe stands at the edge of the forest, face titled up towards the stars that filter through the tops of the trees.

“It’s a nice night,” Lucas says from behind him. Robbe turns around to face him, but can barely make him out in the darkness. It doesn’t help that his magic keeps him blended beneath the dark boughs of the oak Robbe knows he’s standing under. A wolf howls, somewhere far off, and their gazes both snap back to the deep thicket of the Nordforêt.

“Yeah, it’s a wonderful night to risk my life,” Robbe shoots back sarcastically, one hand tightening around his bow instinctively. Lucas slides out from the shadow of the trees and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” he asks, and Robbe shakes his head.

“Who else is gonna kill it? I’m the only one who even has the archery skills to try.”

They both look back towards the twinkling lights of the village. Candles flicker in the windows of the houses, land fallen stars in the blanket of night, and Robbe knows this is something he must do. Their village cemetery has been expanded by four over the last three months thanks to the ferocious lone wolf that had moved into their area, dragging off unlucky victims who ventured too far from home in the dark.

The long, low house of the apothecary and town witch draw their attention, Lucas and Robbe knowing that mejuffrouw Van Der Heijden andMeneer Stoffels somewhere inside keeping Lucas’s mother safe. Flor Van Der Heijden and Meneer Stoffels might despise each other, with Flor valuing love and magic while Stoffels preferred science and cynicality, but they always set their differences aside to help heal those who needed it, uniting logic and the mystical under one front. It made Robbe happy knowing his mother was in good care. 

The tailor’s daughter, Engel, had trimmed Robbe’s bearskin cloak so it was above the ground and lashed his deer hide boots tightly to his legs with cloth so he could be as stealthy as possible for tonight.

“Just promise you’ll come back, Robbe,” Lucas sighs, brushing a hand through his hair, and Robbe leans into the touch with a smile as he feels a protection charm settle over him. Sometimes Robbe wondered if they were not two parts of the same soul.

“I promise,” Robbe replies, and they grasp hands one more time before Lucas watches Robbe step into the forest.

Robbe knows the front section of Nordforêt like the back of his hand, but where the beech and aspen trees thicken to oak and pine, that is where the forest goes unknowable and mystical. He takes the hunter’s footpath to the secondary line of trees ten minutes into the forest, and stares at the opposing darkness. This must be where the wolf lives.

He steps into a most ancient thicket of trees, a sense of foreboding looming as he makes his way far into the night. 

The forest is eerily quiet as Robbe slips between the trees, all senses on high alert as the occasional owl hoots overhead and mice skitter in the leaves. He’s deep enough in the forest that he can no longer see the village, and he steels his nerves. A branch snaps a few yards ahead of him in the gloom, and Robbe freezes. Something shifts in the shadows, and Robbe can make out the outline of an enormous wolf as he crouches down silently to nock his arrow.

It hasn’t noticed him yet, but Robbe worries the pounding of his heart will inevitably give him away as the beast snuffles at the air. Its neck is bared, and Robbe quickly takes his shot, knowing that he is successful when there is a wounded yip and the wolf looks around in bewilderment.

Robbe ducks behind a tree just in time as the wolf starts to growl low in its throat, and Robbe curses his luck that apparently, this wolf cannot be felled by one sole arrow like others of its kind. He snatches two arrows this time, pinching them between his fingers before he pokes out from behind the tree again to shoot. They land on the creature’s shoulder, and the wolf gives a blood-curdling howl. 

Robbe drops his bow. 

The wolf whirls around at the sound, teeth bared, and Robbe’s eyes widen in fear as he stumbles backwards. Not even Lucas’s magic can help him now.

He takes off sprinting, desperately bounding through the underbrush, branches and brambles stinging his face as he runs for his life. He chances a glance over his shoulder and the wolf is easily gaining on him.

“Fuck!” he screams as he grabs his hunting knife, ready to fight with everything in him when the wolf inevitably catches him. A tree trunk catches him in the shoulder and he stumbles, gasping for breath as he trips down a slope into the freezing cold water of a stream. He crashes down to his knees in the water and rolls over as quickly as he can to raise his hands in defense, and this will be how he dies, alone in the forest at night-

An arrow whistles over his shoulder and lands in the beast’s neck to the right of Robbe’s own shots. Robbe has seconds to gape in shock as the creature goes down before he’s somehow pulled underwater into the shallow stream.

* * *

  
Sunlight trickles down through the forest canopy, washing everything in a soft yellow glow as the sun begins to rise.

Robbe is vaguely aware of feeling warm and weightless as he opens his eyes and finds himself waist-deep on a rock ledge in a crystal clear pool. Steam trails from the pool in wispy spools. It’s quiet, save the distant sound of birdsong, and he sits up more fully as he rubs his head with a groan.

Well, shit. Did he die?

He looks over the edge of the rock... table that he’s currently on. It goes deep, darker blue than the richest sapphire. Who knows what might be in their depths.

Water ripples from behind where he’s hunched over, and Robbe sits back on his knees to glance over his shoulder. Nothing.

He narrows his eyes and reaches for his bow, but feels a sudden sense of fear at the realization that not only is it gone, but his boots, cloak, and tunic, are too. Engel will kill him if he’s not already in the afterlife.

There’s a splash to his left, and Robbe whirls back around to try and see what caused it. Still nothing, but now Robbe has no doubt. There’s something else in the water.

He stands, waist dripping wet as he feels imperceptible shifts in the water around him, and realizes this thing must be circling him.

“Who’s there?” Robbe demands, voice echoing in the forest. Something brushes his ankle, and he looks down just in time to see a flash of white disappear underwater below the edge of the rock table. He could have sworn it was a hand.

Robbe drops down to his hands and knees and stares down into the darker waters around him.

Something flickers just out of sight beneath him, and if he leans forward just a little more, he’ll be able to see it-

The water swallows his scream in a burst of bubbles as he falls into the unnaturally warm water, eyes shooting open as he realizes that the _something_ has grabbed him and he’s in the very strong arms of an otherworldly boy as he’s pulled to the surface.

Robbe’s hair sticks to his face, covering his eyes as he coughs and spits up water, too disoriented to try and fight against the boy. He feels them heave up, and Robbe is impossibly grateful for the sturdy rock beneath his hands as he slicks his hair out of his face and gets a good look at the boy.

He’s tall and lithe, all smooth muscle and crinkling smile with frosty white hair that seems to have magically dried the moment he left the water. He wears a pair of billowy pants that cinch at the knee with bands of glittering diamond, smooth limestone, and willow whips around his waist and arms.

There’s a sound like, well, a babbling brook, and Robbe realizes it’s the boy’s laughter.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake!” he says, but Robbe scowls at him suspiciously.

He doesn’t have a tail or any unusual appendage that Robbe can see, but you never know.

“Are you a... mermaid?” The word comes to him in the strange tongue of the northern fisher people who come to the village once every three years, tall wild people with fair features, bright smiles, fantastic stories and dried fish to trade. Robbe is friends with one of the younger men in line for the chiefhood, Isak, who tells him glittering tales of of his beloved, a man with a tail the color of the sky who lives in the ocean.

The boy’s brow furrows and he looks at him in confusion.

“Am I a _what_?”

Robbe gestures vaguely, but then gives up. The boy fixes him with that brilliant smile again, and Robbe can’t stop staring at him as he sits down next to Robbe.

“I’m a naiad. My name is Sander,” he says, and this time it’s Robbe’s turn to be confused.

“A naiad? Aren’t they all girls?” Robbe asks, and Sander tsks.

“We don’t care about things like gender the way you humans do. But I certainly identify as what you’d consider male.”

Robbe squints.

“So a boy naiad... named Sander,” he says slowly.

“Why’d you say my name like that?” Sander questions with a grin, and Robbe blushes.

“I don’t know... doesn’t that seem like a weird name for a naiad? Normal?”

Sander looks at him for a long time.

“What did you think I’d be named? Azure, Hermès, something pretentious like that?” he asks, and Robbe blushing even harder is all the answer he needs as he starts laughing again. “You’re a strange human. Well, what’s your name?”

“Robbe,” he replies, and because it feel significant- “Ijzermans. Robbe Ijzermans.”

Sander traces a finger down Robbe’s arm and tests his name out on his own tongue. “Robbe Ijzermans,” he echoes, and Robbe nods.

Robbe stares at where Sander’s hands have returned to his lap and feels like the water turns a degree warmer. “Thanks for saving my life,” Robbe whispers, then finally looks Sander back in the eye. “That was you, right?”

Sander dips his head in confirmation, and a tendril of water snakes up Robbe’s arm. He stares it in awe before it bursts into tiny droplets.

“You’re very interesting, Robbe Ijzermans,” Sander says as he stands up and helps Robbe up as well. He holds Robbe’s hand tight in his, and his eyes widen as Sander leans closer. “I like interesting people,” he adds in a whisper.

A riot of emotions bubble under Robbe‘s skin as Sander leans back and lets him go.

“Can you tell me where I am?” Robbe asks with a wavering voice, and Sander assesses him with a critical stare, gaze pausing on where Robbe’s breeches cling wet to his legs. Robbe blushes and looks down.

“You’re at my spring, the waters of the unknown need,” he says cryptically, and well, that doesn’t help Robbe much.

“That’s... great and all, but I really need to find my village and let my friends know that I’m okay.”

Sander looks at him sadly but nonetheless points to the hanging curtain of willow branches that conceal the latter half of the spring from the forested beyond. He guides Robbe over and picks at one of the leaves.

“It’s just through here. I promise you won’t miss it, because every time you walk through this willow you are exactly where you need to be,” Sander says, and Robbe feels torn by the prospect of leaving. But he must.

Robbe puts his hand out to part the branches but wavers, looking at Sander one last time.

“Thank you,” he says again. “I’m indebted to you.”

Sander just smiles and tilts his head. Robbe wants to touch him one more time, just to be sure he’s truly real, but he doesn’t.

_Go home_ , Sander whispers, and it sounds like the wind itself is speaking. When Robbe steps through the curtain of willow leaves, he can see his village through the trees off in the distance. He breaks into a smile and starts to run, not looking back until he breaks through the tree line and several shocked villagers gape at him.

Someone shouts for Jens and the boys to come quick, and before Robbe knows it, he’s practically being barreled down by Jens, Aaron and Lucas crushing him into a giant group hug.

“Robbe! You’re not dead!” Aaron cries out enthusiastically, and Jens laughs loud and clear before all them step back and their gazes drop to his chest.

“What are you wearing?” Jens asks, confusion coloring his face as Robbe looks down too. He has a tunic, cloak and breeches on in a deep emerald green that changes shades as he moves. Immediately, he knows that Sander must have charmed the outfit on him, and his face floods with warmth.

“Simply a new outfit,” he replies, and Jens shakes his head before the three of them hug him tightly once more, staying embraced until someone clears their throat. 

They all pull apart to see Jens’s dad looking expectantly at them, the village lord Kavi Reijners beside him. 

“Robbe!” Lord Reijners exclaims with a relieved smile as he draws Robbe into a kind embrace. He checks Robbe down for any injuries, and smiles at him. They had grown close after Robbe became good friends with his daughter, Liv, who was currently two villages away on a diplomatic venture.

“So you were successful?” he asks, and Robbe nods.

“Good,” Meneer Stoffels says tersely, missing the furious scowl Jens aims at him from Aaron’s side. 

Lord Reijners claps his shoulder heartily. “I’ve no surprise, for such a strong young man. You have proven yourself capable in many a thing, Robbe,” he adds, and Robbe preens under the praise.

“I try, my lord,” Robbe says humbly, and Jens snickers behind him. Lord Reijners nods approvingly at him and at the three other boys before firmly grasping Meneer Stoffels’ shoulder and leading him away.

“We’ll leave you boys to it. Rest up, Robbe. Relax,” Lord Reijners advises. 

Once they’re gone, the guys cluster around Robbe once more. 

“Let’s get you to the inn,” Luc says, wrapping an arm around Robbe’s shoulders as Jens and Aaron flank his other sides. Robbe is eternally grateful to his friends for being such truly good people, as they get Robbe a meal of salted ham and bread and a mug of tea after he’s situated in his room above the owner’s quarters before leaving him to settle in for the night.

The innkeep, Milan, pokes his head in to check up on Robbe and tease him about being the new village celebrity, and then Robbe finally gets into bed. 

It’s nice to be back, but Robbe can’t shake the nagging feeling that he’s forgotten something. He tosses and turns, unable to sleep in the dry suffocation of his own bed, and lays awake until dawn.

* * *

  
Robbe barely hesitates after getting dressed to slip off into the thick trees of the Nordforêt.

He searches the forest for hours and hours, but the spring is gone.


	2. An August Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New friendships and budding secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, and welcome back! Thank you for the great reception to the first chapter! We’ll be settling into longer chapters from this point onwards as well as introducing the new conflicts. I can’t wait to hear your feedback!
> 
> **ALSO JUST A NOTE! This fic is unbeta’d so i SERIOUSLY appreciate it when you comment continuity or grammatical errors! Thank you!!**

_One moon later_

Robbe grimaces as Noor leans too close. Ever since the village discovered that he killed the wolf (as far as they know) all the girls had started to _look_ at Robbe in a way that made him uncomfortable for some unknowable reason.

“This is fun, isn’t it?” she asks again, and Robbe wants to rip his hair out. Her hands slide up his bicep, and all Robbe wants is for them to be colder, broader, stronger. But instead they lay incriminating on him, slender and exactly not who he’s thinking of. He feels a little bad. Noor is a wonderful girl, he just wishes they could simply be friends.

“Yes,” he says a little sharply, taking a deep drink of his mead, and she blanches a little at his tone.

_Good_ , Robbe thinks darkly, before deciding to plaster a fake smile onto his face. “It’s really _wonderful_ talking to to you, but if you’ll excuse me a moment,” he says before he abruptly gets up to go to a quieter corner near the front of the pub, where Jens is hovering, eyes flitting between him, and Kes and Luc at the bar.

“What are you doing?” Jens whispers in his ear when he finally manages to extract himself from Noor to drink his mead in peace. “She clearly wants you!” he exclaims.

Robbe’s heart sinks. He hasn’t told anyone about Sander, feeling like he was something that Robbe wanted to keep for just himself. He also hasn’t told any of his friends that he prefers men, even though it’s not a problem, seeing as most of his closest friends also have the same types of attractions.

“I don’t like her in that manner,” Robbe says stubbornly, mead going to his head. His feet still hurt from roaming the forest earlier. He looks every day, without fail, and still.

Nothing.

“Why not?” Jens asks, clearly oblivious to the turmoil of Robbe’s inner thoughts.

“I simply don’t, alright?” Robbe snaps, and Jens looks slightly taken aback. Robbe sighs. “Fuck, I’m sorry for being sharp. I’m just really tired lately,” Robbe elaborates, and Jens softens a little.

“You’ve been tense ever since you killed the wolf,” he notes, and Robbe’s brow furrows. He hadn’t thought anyone but Luc had noticed. Jens takes him by the arm and guides him out of the pub into the relative calm of the street. “Did something happen in the forest?” Jens demands, and Robbe freezes.

He almost opens his mouth to tell Jens about the spring, but stops at the last moment. “No. It was simply... a strange experience,” he says instead. Jens clearly doesn’t believe him.

They stand facing each other awkwardly for a moment, before Robbe puts a hand on Jens’s shoulder that probably slaps down a little too hard from the mead.

“Go back in to Kes and Luc. I’m sure they can’t wait to see your stupid face again,” Robbe tells him, and pokes at his nose with a grin.

Jens squints suspiciously at him one last time, before finally turning on his heel to return into the pub.

“Don’t get into any trouble without me,” Jens calls before the door shuts behind him, and Robbe smiles to himself. Him? Trouble?

Robbe heads down the main town road, still well lit from the setting sun. He wasn’t fully drunk yet, but he certainly felt a little buzzed already. Perhaps it’s better to stop drinking now.

It’s a regular evening in the village today, with the sun just barely starting to fall under the tall silhouette of the forest. A few particularly hardy workers are still out in the fields, but the majority of townspeople are concluding in-village business instead and the pub is already overflowing with the half drunk younger crowd.

Muscle memory brings him to the mouth of the hunter’s footpath into the forest, and a sad smile tugs on his mouth. He heads into the evening-gold forest, too wary to expect what he wants to see.

A rabbit darts across the path some time later, making Robbe jump. It sprints into a section of trees Robbe doesn’t immediately recognize, and he squints.

In the distance, a familiar diamond-hued tree.

A glimmer of hope sparks in his chest as he recognizes the imposing willow and hears the soft babble of the creek, and he runs off the path to carefully approach the drape of thick willow wands. Robbe extends his hands to part the leaves and steps through, only to promptly tumble into the spring and crash into the deep sapphiric waters. Two strong hands haul him up into the shallow water of the rock shelf, and Robbe coughs as he shoves his hair out of his face.

“Again?” Sander asks disapprovingly, and Robbe lights up when he sees the naiad staring at him with a fond smirk. He bursts into a smile.

“I found you!” Robbe exclaims, and Sander laughs at his enthusiasm.

“Clearly,” he replies, and waves his hand so that the top half of Robbe that isn’t submerged in the water is now dry. “What are you doing here?” he asks curiously, and if Robbe is being honest he isn’t entirely sure himself.

“I’ve been looking for you, but I couldn’t find you,” Robbe admits, averting his eyes. Sander’s touch is gentle on his shoulder.

“I know,” he responds, and Robbe looks over at him in confusion. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you see me, but I was going through some things that I wanted to be alone with,” he explains, and Robbe thinks back to his own sadness he had carried in his heart upon leaving.

“Well, I’m here if you ever want someone to go through things with,” Robbe replies shyly, and Sander smiles widely at him. “But please don’t leave me like that ever again if you can help it. I hated feeling like I lost you,” Robbe adds, hating the way his voice wavers. He barely knows Sander.

Sander stands, still completely dry, and looks down at where Robbe is knelt waist-deep in the water.

“I think you do know why you were looking for me,” Sander says, and crosses his arms expectantly. Robbe leans back on his arms to look up at him better with a crooked smile on his face.

“Because I think you’re interesting,” Robbe responds, harkening back to their first conversation. Sander, evidently satisfied by this answer, sits down opposite him with a splash.

“Oh yeah?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye, and Robbe nods, lighting up in wonder as Sander gestures for Robbe to stick his hands out and he places a delicate lily made of water into his outstretched palms. It wavers under Robbe’s touch, but stays intact as he traces a finger across the clear petals.

“See? You’re fascinating,” Robbe whispers, point proven.

Sander merely shrugs and snaps his fingers, the flower dissolving. “I’m not sure I could ever be as interesting as a mysterious human that falls into my waters with an enormous wolf on his heels, ready to fight to the death.”

That gains a laugh from Robbe, and Sander smirks at him.

“I’ve never been called mysterious before,” Robbe says, and Sander leans forward. He finds himself mirroring Sander’s moves.

“Then tell me about yourself, Robbe Ijzermans,” Sander challenges.

They talk well into the night, until Sander sends Robbe on his way with a tiny diamond pressed into his hand and a new friendship budding.  
  


* * *

“So I heard that you’re seeing Jana?” Luc asks Jens, and he shakes his head with a smile.

“Nothing but rumors. Where’d you hear that from, Aaron?” Jens scoffs, and Aaron looks up indignantly.

“I’m not the village idiot, you know,” Aaron cuts in, and the boys laugh.

“I agree, besides, Jana’s too far out of Jens’s league for him to get with her again,” Robbe adds with a smirk as Lucas and Aaron laugh at Jens’s fake-hurt look.

“Oh, but what about _you_ , Mr. Archer? How’s your love life?” Luc asks with a triumphant grin, and the peanut gallery ohhh’s dramatically. “A little birdie told me that Noor’s looking to court you.”

Robbe takes a big bite from his bread and deliberates how to respond while Jens raises his eyebrows and leans in, clearly curious to hear his response as well.

He could fake it, but the diamond that he’s kept in his pocket ever since last week weighs incriminatingly against his leg.

“I harbor no interest in her,” he finally says around a mouthful of crumbs.

“Why not?” Aaron questions with a tilt of his head, and Robbe shrugs.

“Perhaps you have your eye on another,” Lucas suggests with a twinkle in his eye, and Robbe’s face heats.

“My only lovers right now are my bow and arrow,” Robbe responds haughtily, and the boys all guffaw.

“Oh, that’s definitely an innuendo for masturbation,” Jens chuckles. Robbe eventually cracks a smile and goes with it.

They laugh and make merry for the rest of their lunch, until Engel comes to fetch Aaron to help her with errands and Lucas walks with Robbe to the archery range next to the wheat field outside town.

Luc clears and sets the targets with a flick of his hand as he goes to sit on a hay bale behind Robbe, and Robbe grabs the spare training bow and a bundle of arrows.

“Jens’s father is pushing for him to be engaged soon, and I know other parents have been seeking that some of us as well,” Lucas says offhandedly as Robbe pulls the string back and aims. He scowls down the shaft of the arrow at the target, giving a frustrated huff as he lets it fly and it lands off target.

“I guess so,” Robbe replies. He nocks the next arrow, able to feel the way that Luc is staring at him without looking.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

_Thunk_. Closer to target, but still off. Robbe aims the next arrow carefully.

“I know,” he says. “And you can talk to me too,” Robbe says with a pointed glance over his shoulder.

He thinks about mentioning Sander, but decides against it. He’s still peculiarly possessive of his newfound friendship with the naiad. He releases the arrow and a drop of water lands on his forehead as the arrow lands squarely in the center of the target.

It’s a perfectly sunny day out, no clouds in the sky.

Lucas flicks a piece of straw at the back of Robbe’s head, and Robbe turns to squint at him. “I just worry sometimes. You’ve seen so in your head lately. I just want to make sure everything’s okay,” Luc elaborates with a gentle smile. His kindness tempers the edge of Robbe’s annoyance and brooding, and Robbe rolls his eyes fondly as he drops his bow.

“I‘ve just been thinking about Mama. And the future,” Robbe sighs, and steps forward so Lucas can reach down from his perch on the hay bale and ruffle his hair. “You needn’t fuss so much. I get sick and tired of your needling,” Robbe adds with a mischievous grin and Luc smacks the side of his head lightly.

“You’re a pain in my ass. I should turn you into a frog,” Lucas chuckles, and Robbe shakes his head.

“Nuh-uh, you love me too much,” Robbe counters to Lucas’s eye roll.

“I do,” he replies fondly, and Robbe smiles brightly at him. Two sides of the same coin, he and Luc.

Robbe itches to go into the woods and seek out the willow that signifies Sander’s home again to ease the sudden tightness in his chest, but refrains out of politeness. He snuck away yesterday after finding him again last week, but he wants to stay careful.

“I wasn’t trying to be mean when I mentioned Noor earlier, you know,” Lucas comments as Robbe returns to his position at the end of the target range. “I know... you’re not interested for some reason.”

Robbe sighs inwardly as he shoots an arrow nearly on target. At least someone isn’t prying and respects how he feels.

“Well, why’d you bring it up then?” Robbe asks as he readies his next arrow.

“I think Noor should court Engel,” Lucas says, and Robbe has to actually set down his bow and arrow once more as he turns to face Luc.

“Are you crazy?” Robbe asks, and Lucas gives him an unimpressed look.

“No, think about it. They’ll marry Engel off to someone she doesn’t love if she isn’t courted soon, and we all seem to know how she feels about Noor except Noor herself. I thought she was gonna strangle you in the bar the other night. Besides, they deserve something nice. I think they’d make a wonderful couple.”

Now that Lucas points it out, it’s hard to try and ignore it. Besides, it solves both his problem _and_ Engel’s. Robbe puts his hands on his hips and grins at him.

“Are you gonna give them a love potion?” Robbe asks, and Luc gives him an unimpressed look.

“Oh, please. Everyone knows love potions don’t exist. No, I’m merely going to... suggest things,” he replies. They slap hands into a fist bump and start laughing as Robbe lets Lucas clean up the target range with his magic.

They head down the footpath past the frog pond, enjoying the warm day. “Now we just have to find you a lady,” Luc jokes, nudging his shoulder as they walk. Robbe stiffens, and Lucas slows his pace. “Or... perhaps it’s a man you’d prefer?” Lucas says gently, and Robbe swallows.

“That’d be nice,” he responds quietly, and Lucas gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Robbe kicks a stone into the pond as they pass.

“I know how you feel,” Luc says with a knowing glance, and Robbe thinks back to the hurt looks he’s seen Luc point to Jens when he was with Jana, and the way he would look at Kes when they were younger, like he hung the moon.

The path loops around the rim of the wheat fields before cutting through the middle back into town, and Luc stops them with their backs to the waist-high crop of wheat, shiny and gold in the sun.

Lucas wordlessly tugs Robbe into a long hug, and Robbe clutches the back of his cloak.

“You’re a good man, Robbe,” Lucas says kindly before they part ways, Luc into the hidden herb patches in the southerly forest and Robbe back to the apothecary.

* * *

“We’re friends, right?” Robbe asks on his fifth visit to the spring, kicking the water with his bare toes to try and splash Sander’s floating form.

“I would hope so,” Sander replies, cracking an eye open to look at him. “Why?”

Robbe is silent for several long minutes and Sander lets him gather his thoughts, watching him carefully. “I don’t know. I just want to know that someone cares about me,” he confesses.

Sander rolls onto his stomach as if he’s on a bed, not water. “Sometimes I worry I may never find love,” he says.

“That’s dumb. You’ll find someone some day,” Robbe replies, and Sander gives him a look that makes Robbe feel a few temperatures too hot.

“Perhaps a stranger who stumbles into my spring, right?” he questions, and Robbe swallows hard.

“For example, yes. Besides, I’m the one unlikely to find love. I’m just the village archer.”

“I think you’re foolish to think that. Any being would be lucky to love you, and I know many would,” Sander replies, and Robbe smiles at him.

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m sure you have all the the lady naiads and forest sprites fawning for your attention. I don’t doubt you’ve no shortage of beautiful magical girls,” he shoots back, and Sander lazily rests his head on his cradled arms, a smirk tugging at his face.

“Well, not necessarily just girls. Or even supernatural beings,” Sander corrects easily, and Robbe feels himself flush.

They lapse into momentary silence, and Sander flicks some water at him in retaliation. “But what about you? Do you seriously expect me to believe all the eligible youth aren’t infatuated with you?” he asks.

“I don’t find anyone in my village interesting enough to love,” Robbe replies, and he knows that must sound terribly conceited, but instead focuses on the fact that Sander seems to have picked up on all the verbal cues he’s dropped.

“Then perhaps you should take what you agreed was sound advice and stumble into some magic springs,” he says suggestively, and the water that he twirls around his fingers turn into tiny whirlpools.

They lock eyes.

“Perhaps I should,” Robbe whispers, and wonders if he should be thinking about his _friend_ pulling him into the water and making him drown in a kiss. 

* * *

A tiny bird lands on the windowsill, pale red and otherworldly-looking. Robbe squints against the rising morning sun as the bird chirps and he extends his hand, allowing it to flutter into his room and land delicately on his finger as he sits up in bed. It bears the mark of Lucas’s magic.

_You need to come to the apothecary_ , a disjointed voice says in his head. _Your mother wants to see you._

Robbe wakes up fully at that, and quickly sends the bird back on its way, rifling through his trunk to throw on the forest green outfit that Sander has gifted him. He looks regal and elegant in it, but the most important part is how much comfort Robbe finds whenever he wears it.

Milan is in the common room downstairs when he hurries down, a pungent smelling tea clutched in his hands.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks, and Robbe smiles faintly at him. He feels bad about being so brief with Milan at times, considering how much the innkeep has done for him, but now there simply isn’t much time.

“Yeah,” he calls as he pokes his head in the kitchen to grab an apple from the basket. “We can catch up later,” he says as he heads out the door, only half sure that he’d keep his word. The morning air is still balmy and light despite the hot clutch of August, and Robbe walks quickly down the streets of the waking town to the apothecary building.

The door creaks as Robbe shoulders it open, the store section empty of Meneer Stoffels, their dog Kaneel acting as sufficient security against would-be thieves.

Kaneel lifts his head and sniffs indignantly at Robbe as he watches him walk towards the back door that connects to mejuffrouw Van Der Heijden’s practice and private quarters she shares with his mother and Luc.

Lucas is carefully plucking at a white rose suspended in mid air when Robbe walks in, and he pauses his work, undoubtedly for a potion.

“Hi,” he says gently, and Robbe ducks his head in thanks as Lucas wordlessly points at the door to his mother’s room.

Robbe slips in quietly, in case she might be asleep, but she seems fairly awake and Luc’s mother is holding her hand with a relaxed smile.

“My dear son,” Mama says faintly, lifting her free hand for Robbe. Robbe quickly steps forward to kneel beside her bed, and Mama smiles weakly at him.

“She woke up and brought her nightmares into this world with her,”mejuffrouw Van Der Heijden explains calmly, her dark brown eyes bearing no judgement on Robbe. “Nothing a little relaxant potion and some light magic can’t fix, but you know how it leaves her feeling a little weak.”

Robbe nods his head, eyes locked on his mom. “How are you doing, Mama?” he asks softly, and she chuckles.

“Me? Oh, I’m fine with Flor here watching over me. But how are you, my little Robin? Jens’s father says that you killed the wolf,” she asks, and Robbe lets a pale grin tug at his face.

“I’m fine. I’m not entirely sure the specifics, but the wolf is dead and everyone is safe now,” Robbe replies, and mejuffrouw Van Der Heijden clucks slightly from her place opposite him.

“Oh, but there’s more,” she murmurs, and Robbe feels himself lock up slightly. Mejuffrouw Van Der Heijden leans over Mama to stare deep in his eyes, and Robbe can’t stop the memories from surfacing under her gaze.

Her magic tickles his nose, a teasing sixth sense that comes alive whenever it feels another trace of new magic. It’s a gift she’s known for, and Robbe curses that he’s forced to share the full story now.

“Well, there was a magic stream that I found too, but it’s nothing,” he dismisses, and mejuffrouw Van Der Heijden leans back.

“That was a moon and some ago. If it truly was nothing, it would be faded. But this magic is fresh,” Flor says with a hard glint to her eye, and Robbe blushes.

“Have you truly found some new magic, my son?” Mama asks, and she sounds so amazed that it hurts his heart.

He finally relents and checks the room for a chair to sit in. “Fine. It’s a naiad spring,” he says, and Sander’s diamond feels heavy in his pocket. He slips a hand in it to rub the stone between his fingers.

Both Flor and Mama look utterly shocked.

“A naiad?” mejuffrouw Van Der Heijden repeats incredulously and what? Do they not believe him? Naiads are fairly common in the myths of old, and with magic so prevalent in their lives it’s not a stretch at all that there are some in the Nordforêt. There had even been a unicorn that would prance around the outskirts of the village at night when he was little.

“What does she look like?” Mama asks in wonder, and Robbe’s grip tightens more around the diamond.

“He... is beautiful,” he grits back, and this time Luc’s mother actually leans back.

“I’ve never heard of a boy naiad,” Mama notes curiously, and Flor locks him with a hard stare.

“Naiads are very distant relatives to sirens, and have the same ability of drowning unsuspecting people. Sometimes in ways you might not expect,” mejuffrouw Van Der Heijden says, and a sinking feeling lowers in Robbe’s stomach. “You be careful that naiad doesn’t drown you too,” she tacks on, and Robbe swallows under her piercing look.

“He’ll be careful, right?” Mama tells her with a look at Robbe, and he nods a little too eagerly.

“Of course,” he amends, before quickly steering the conversation into safer territory.

The three of them talk for an hour of more lighthearted things, such as Milan’s lovers or Zoë’s new garden before mejuffrouw Van Der Heijden shoos him out so she can start preparing lunch with Mama.

Afternoon has started to break over the village when he leaves the apothecary, and he sees Engel drawing water from the well down towards the village center, and they wave cheerily to each other. The loud clang of the smith’s workshop echoes out across the village, sparking an idea as Robbe takes the diamond from his pocket, and stares at it in his hand. He’s had the diamond loose too long. Such a wonderful gift deserves proper tribute.

He heads to the jeweler’s shop next to the smithy, and steps inside to be greeted by Jana.

“Hi Robbe, how can I help you?” she asks with a flirty grin as she leans across the counter, gems and jewelry glittering on the shelves in the store. Lucas’s protection charms weigh heavy in the air, guarding the goods.

Robbe sets the diamond down on the counter, and Jana’s eyes go wide as she picks it up to inspect it. “I was hoping to get this set as a pendant so I could wear it as a necklace?” Robbe asks, and Jana immediately nods.

“Senne is over in the smith today, and he hasn’t assigned me any apprentice work so I think we can get this done fairly soon. If you want to take a seat and read, I’ll go to him and get it started,” Jana says with a smile, and Robbe nods eagerly as he slides her a gold piece and takes a seat in a corner of chairs and books.

There is a dusty tome of Germanic fairytales imported from the south, and Robbe picks it up gingerly. _Schwarzwaldgeschichten von David Schreibner._

Robbe flipped through the pages carefully, surprised by the abundance of stories and languages contained within the book. A few phrases of French caught his eye, and he paused. This story is called The North Star.

Robbe began to read, quickly engrossed by the story of two princes who kept getting separated but were constantly reunited by following Polaris to each other. The first prince came from a kingdom of darkness, cautious but bold, and the second prince came from a kingdom of light, optimistic and playful. It brought a smile to Robbe’s face as he read about them finding each other again and kissing in the rain.

He flipped to the next story, this one in the language of the northern Fjordlandet fisherpeople, and struggles to try and decipher it.

Jana taps the page some time later, and Robbe looks up in shock. The sun had moved far across the sky as he had read, and she held out a necklace to him.

The top of the diamond had been dipped in gold and wrought with a tiny circle that kept it on a leather cord. Robbe took it gently and put it around his neck.

“Senne said that you’ve got a special stone there, and I must agree. It looks so magical on you,” Jana compliments, and Robbe smiles at her.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful,” Robbe says, touching it reverently. Jana hits his shoulder with a grin and heads back behind the counter.

“I gotta keep the best archer in town looking pretty, don’t I?” she says, and Robbe waves her off as he starts to head for the door.

“Only for beautiful girls like yourself,” he replies, and her hearty laughter follows him out the door.  
  


* * *

“You made a necklace of it,” Sander says in awe as he carefully traces his fingers down the leather cord around Robbe’s neck and the rough facets of the diamond. His smile is sun-bright and genuine when he meets Robbe’s eyes. Something flighty tickles the insides of Robbe’s stomach at Sander’s look, and he tamps down the feelings that threaten to spill out of his eyes.

“It makes me think of you whenever I wear it,” Robbe says coyly, and Sander’s eyebrows raise as he steps close, the water sloshing around their thighs. His hair looks shiny and snowy in the sun.

“And how often is it that you wear it? It _has_ been a while since you’ve come to see me,” Sander replies in an almost challenging tone, and the tickle in his stomach Robbe is trying to force down turns into an uncontrollably shaky sensation that spreads to his fingertips at their proximity.

“Every day,” Robbe admits quietly, and Sander tilts his head curiously.

“Every day?” Sander repeats, and Robbe nods. Sander taps his chin as if contemplating something, before he cups his hands into the water. It immediately freezes into a glistening crystal, and Sander holds it up to the sun so he can look inside of it. He lowers his arm and hands it to Robbe.

“Look inside,” he instructs, and Robbe does as he’s told. He brings the ice crystal close to his face and squints as he sees something.

It’s his face, framed by a rainbow of willow leaves, perfectly trapped in ice.

“Wow,” he breathes, and hands it back to Sander. Sander smiles softly at him.

“Now I have something to remind me of you as well,” he says, and Robbe blushes.

Robbe pulls the naiad to him in a tight hug before he loses his nerve, and Sander is stiff in surprise for a moment before he hugs back. Robbe steps back and wishes he wasn’t so red.

“I might not have known you long, but thank you for... being such a good friend. I like visiting you and talking to you for hours.”

Sander’s smile is free of his usual mischief, full of instead fondness. “You can come see me whenever you’d wish,” he says firmly, and Robbe smiles back. “I like knowing you feel safe with me.”

Robbe goes to sit at the base of the willow tree, running a hand down its smooth bark humming with magic. There is the small ledge that Robbe steps on that rings the spring, and a few thick roots that plunge into the water. The leaves create a silvery curtain, a bubble of shade and privacy, and Robbe lets his feet dangle in the water as he situates himself on a root, leaning backwards against the trunk as he closes his eyes.

He feels the water shift around his feet, and cracks an eye open to spot Sander looking up at him, his chin perched on top of his hands on a root, mostly submerged.

“Do I bore you that much?” Sander jokes, and Robbe laughs as he closes his eyes again.

“No. You just bring me peace.”

One of Sander’s fingers trace up his leg. “Sleep well,” he whispers, and Robbe drifts off under the willow.

Sander wakes him up sometime later when the sun is hanging low in the sky with a tendril of water creeping up his neck. Robbe blinks awake and Sander smiles gently.

“Time for you to go home,” Sander says softly, and Robbe nods sleepily. He slept surprisingly well against the tree. Robbe collects his bow and arrow and puts his shoes back on as he pauses at the thick wall of willow leaves.

“Come back soon?” Sander says hopefully as he floats on his back, and Robbe nods.

“Always.”   
  



	3. Falling like September Leaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoenne, town gossip, and realizations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO MUCH for your continued feedback!! Big apologies for some of the name errors in the in earlier chapters- in revising the original draft there are some spots I missed despite rereading five fucking times before posting so I really appreciate you guys helping me out with that. Y’all are the best!  
> The chapter title should give you a bit of a hint of what to expect this week ;) Apologies for the very slightly delayed update and as always, thank you so much for reading!

“Hi, Robbe!” a bright voice calls from behind him, and Robbe stiffens up, hoping that if he ignores it, it will go away.

“Robbe!” the voice repeats, and Robbe starts whittling the piece of wood in his hands faster.

Unfortunately, Engel still approaches and fixes herself firmly in his line of sight with a toothy smile.

“Hello! You must be working pretty hard, I called your name a few times,” she all but chirps, and Robbe wishes more than anything that she would go swoon over Noor and leave him alone. He’s not in a good mood.

“Oh yes. Very busy,” Robbe affirms, waving his carving knife around a little. She gives him a weird look and doesn’t get the hint.

Engel messes with the hem of her dress sleeves for a moment before looking at him with a furtive glance. “I was wondering if you were planning on going to the frog pond with anyone?” She asks and Robbe’s head shoots up in alarm.

This is bad for two reasons. One- Robbe feels oddly like he would be betraying Sander by spending time at a different water source, which is weird. And two- People typically offer courtship proposals at the frog pond. So no, there is absolutely no one in town he would want to go with.

“No,” Lucas says quickly as he stands, sheathing his knife in the process. Her eyes flick down briefly to his necklace, and he fights the urge to cover the diamond up, instead squeezing the wood figure in his hand. Is she- _interested_ in him too? Robbe quashes that thought. Something suspicious seems to be going on.

“Oh. Okay, I was just wondering,” she says and she looks a little relieved. Robbe puts his hands on his hips and squints at her.

He decides to go the direct route. “Why are you asking me? Do you like me?” he asks, and Engel turns the brightest shade of red.

“No! No no no, not- not _you_ ,” she says pointedly, and looks around shiftily. “It’s just that... Noor really likes you, okay! And I didn’t know if you liked her back because that would be terrible because I’ve been in love with her for a year and she doesn’t know and I just want to court _her_ -“ Engel rushes out, and Robbe holds his hands out. Damn, Lucas was right.

“Woah, woah, woah, Engel, slow down! Take a deep breath,” Robbe tells her, and she looks on the edge of tears. “I don’t like Noor. I don’t want to court her,” Robbe explains slowly.

“Really?” Engel asks with a sniffle, and Robbe nods.

“Really. I actually think you should court her,” he suggests, and Engel’s bright smile returns to her face.

“Oh my God, for real? Yes!” she squeals, and throws her arms around Robbe’s neck. Robbe pats her back in surprise and she steps back.

“Thank you for talking to me. I’m sorry if that was weird. Oh, also, I like your carving!” she says happily as she practically skips back to the village.

Looking down at the mindless carving, he realizes it’s a smiling figure in the likeness of Sander.

Robbe pinches the bridge of his nose and slides the figure into the pouch at his side as he heads off in the direction Engel went, to the village center.

Zoë and Senne are talking animatedly to a messenger, a tall, dark-skinned boy bearing the Bakhellal banner from the Kingdom of the Franks.

“Hello,” Robbe greets, and Senne is quick to wrap an arm around his shoulders and bring him into the conversation.

“Idriss was just telling us that the Fjordlandet clan will be returning to trade this winter, and that in the land of the Franks, Prince Eliott and his husband Sir Lucas have been named heirs of the throne,” Senne explains excitedly. Robbe admittedly knew very little about the Franks, but he knew Senne had served for a time when he was younger with Prince Eliott’s guard and they were still close. Robbe was more excited for the announcement the Fjordlandet would be returning. Perhaps Isak would be with them.

Idriss ducked his head in confirmation. “Mahdi is still at the castle, and he’ll be spending his time with us until the rest of their clan meets back up in our kingdom before returning home. He threw a fit when I said he should go share news with the Dutch and the Germanic villages himself, so I decided I’d head out as messenger instead. The king also wanted to share some news with our allies as well, so here I am,” Idriss shrugs.

“You’re staying at the inn, right?” Zoë asks, and Idriss nods. “That’s great! Robbe lives there, he can show you the way,” Zoë volunteers him, and Robbe can sense Senne fighting back a laugh.

“That’s a good idea,” Senne adds, squeezing his shoulder. Robbe is going to throw him into his own forge.

“Sure,” Robbe grumbles, and turns. “Follow me,” he instructs, and Idriss trails him with his horse and pack. Robbe just wants to lay down on his bed and scream. No offense to Idriss, of course, it’s just one thing after another. They reach the inn and Robbe leaves him with Lisa to check him in, and makes for the stairs to reach his own room.

Milan suddenly intercepts him with an apologetic smile, and Robbe frowns. This can’t be good. 

“What do you want,” Robbe says flatly.

“What makes you think I want something?” Milan says innocently as he grabs Robbe’s arm and leads him right back downstairs.

“Milaaaaaan,” Robbe whines as Milan marches him straight out of the inn and out to the frog pond. What the hell is going on?

Robbe spots Luc and Jens squatting down on the ground with a large wooden arch, and a frankly obscene amount of chrysanthemums surrounding them, several poking out of their hair.

“Yes! You brought him!” Jens cheers as he spots Milan and pulls Robbe over. “Senne is proposing to Zoë tonight and we’re helping get it set up,” he says excitedly, and Robbe’s eyes go wide.

“What?!” he exclaims, and whirls around to face Milan, who looks entirely too pleased. “Is he being serious?” Robbe demands, and Milan nods.

“He’s proposing at sunset tonight,” Milan sighs dreamily. “Finally, at least two people I graciously house will be happy,” he says with a pointed look at Robbe, and Robbe rolls his eyes before sitting down beside Jens. Milan disappears to go meddle in something else.

“What are we doing?” Robbe asks as he watches Jens hold up a bundle of red, orange and yellow blossoms while Lucas makes complicated motions over them. Jens sets the charmed bundle on the wood of the arch and his eyebrows shoot up as he watches the way the mums seem to take root in the wood and sprout right out.

“Help us get this to the spot,” Luc instructs, and Robbe helps Jens heft the arch up. Lucas assists them in dragging it to the designated spot and they stand it up.

Robbe is demoted to arch support as Lucas directs Jens to keep helping him charm and set to flowers, bundle after bundle until Robbe is sick of the petals in his mouth and the unsubtle glances Jens and Luc are giving each other. His arms start to hurt, too.

It looks like a puffy, autumnal arc of blooms when they’re done and they finally get it anchored in the ground. Senne is going to love this shit. He’s probably the biggest romantic Robbe knows.

“One finishing touch,” Luc announces, and produces a chain of the leftover flowers from who-knows-where, draping it over Robbe’s head and around his neck.

“Seriously?” Robbe groans.

“You can’t be annoyed when you look so _pretty_ ,” Luc teases, and Jens snickers beside him.

“You can stop laughing, it looks like Luc made your scalp start to produce a garden,” Robbe scoffs at Jens, and smirks at the way he quickly runs a hand through hair, just in case Lucas actually did make flowers start to grow from his head. Luc rolls his eyes, his delicate features and the flowers all over him making him look every bit the part of a disgruntled fairy.

“Guys, let’s go to the tavern and wait for Zoë and Senne to come back,” Jens suggests excitedly, and the others quickly agree.

“Some things are making sense now,” Robbe says after they all get goblets of wine and sit down. Jens and Luc look at him curiously. “Well, I ran into Zoë and Senne earlier today talking to some Frank messenger. He’s probably not only here to share news but to share about Senne and Zoë’s engagement, cause I know Senne’s family is some big deal in- in France, whatever the fuck they call their region, and he served under Prince Eliott until moving here to the Dutch villages,” Robbe explains.

“Oh, yeah! Hey, what if the royals send them wedding gifts, how cool would that be?” Jens replies with a grin. There was no argument that Zoë would say yes, and they were so in love that Robbe had a feeling if Senne didn’t propose soon she would just do it for him.

“Do you anything about the Franks?” Robbe asks Jens, and he shakes his head. “Nah. Well, not much. They’re apparently very fierce, proud people and everything I’ve heard from that region seems to suggest that the people are itching for the prince to ascend to the throne. Senne says their food is awesome,” Jens says.

“Liv says they’re annoying,” Luc cuts in.

“I mean, you know Liv,” Robbe responds. “She just intimidates everyone she’s not friends with.”

“Hey, wait, do you know when she’s coming home?” Jens questions, and Luc shrugs as he takes a sip of his wine.

“I think she’s visiting the Black Forest settlements right now. She should be back around the winter solstice.”

Jana, Noor, Engel and Zoë will surely be ecstatic to reunite with Liv, Robbe is positive.

Aaron and Kes step into the pub, and Jens eagerly waves them over to their table.

“Hey, boys!” Kes says eagerly as he hugs Jens from behind and reaches over his shoulder to steal his goblet and take a sip. Jens rolls his eyes fondly and grins when Kes ruffles his hair, kissing the top of his head before sitting down next to Robbe, Aaron on his other side. A stormy look crosses Luc’s face and Robbe can’t tell if it’s aimed at Kes or Jens.

“What are you guys doing here?” Aaron pipes up after he and Kes order two mugs of beer. A slow smile spreads across Jens’s face.

“We’re waiting for Senne and Zoë,” he says with a twinkle in his eye, and Kes lights up.

“Oh shit, is he-?” he exclaims, and Jens nods excitedly. “Holy shit!” he adds for good measure.

“What are you guys talking about?” Aaron cuts in with a frown.

“Senne’s proposing tonight,” Luc explains, and Aaron’s eyes go wide.

“Woah, no way! It’s about time!”

Their group dissolves into excited and increasingly animated chatter about town gossip, from Zoë and Senne to Aaron’s unsuccessful ventures with love and Jens’s father’s dispute with the Mertens.

The sun sets outside the pub, and more people file into the pub as the shops close and the younger residents seek out some fun.

Engel and Noor show up, and Engel turns beet red when Robbe catches her eye and wiggles his eyebrows as Noor drags her to the bar.

“Gonna talk to Noor, Robbe?” Aaron asks with a playful look on his face.

Kes rolls his eyes. “No way. He’s too busy running around the forest lately to bother with _rooooomance_ ,” he teases, and Robbe tries to play it off.

From beside Jens, Luc gives him a calculating look that Robbe decidedly does not like, and looks like he’s about to ask what Robbe’s doing in the forest so much when he promised to stop visiting Sander’s spring, when the pub door swings open and in walks Senne and Zoë, both of them flushed and beaming.

“We’re getting married!” Senne announces to the pub, and Zoë leans into his side and laughs as the pub erupts in cheers and everyone raises their cups eagerly, mead and beer sloshing around.

“Fuck yes!” Jens screams, and the other boys let out loud whoops.

Everyone in the pub slaps Senne’s back and hugs Zoë as they approach the bar, and the bartender offers them a bottle of wine imported from the Franks as congratulations. Senne spots their group and beelines to their bench as they squeeze in next to Robbe. Senne and Zoë pour themselves a glass, and then Kes gets onto the seating bench and stands unsteadily, raising his goblet to the pub.

“To Zoë and Senne! May they have happiness the rest of their days!” he cheers, and everyone raises their cups in a roar of agreement. Senne hasn’t stopped smiling for a millisecond and his pleased flush deepens as Zoë wraps an arm around him and kisses his cheek.

The rest of the night is spent in celebration, Robbe feeling a deep sense of happiness as he sings rowdy bar songs with his friends and watches their faces fill with smiles.

When he finally stumbles home to the inn, his only regret is that Sander isn’t there to celebrate with them.  
  


* * *

Sander strokes a soothing hand through his hair and quietly sings a song that conjures images of darting fish and clear waters in Robbe’s mind as he lays with his head in Sander’s lap, the two of them enjoying the quiet September day. Robbe plays with a blade of grass and Sander watches his hands lazily.

“Do you enjoy being human?” Sander asks him, and Robbe lets the blade of grass flutter out of his hands so he can look up at Sander.

“Yes,” he replies, and lays his hands on his chest. Sander traces a finger down his jawline, far more tenderly than anything just a friend would do. “But sometimes, I wish I could be something else,” he adds with a smile, and Sander tilts his head curiously as he looks down at him.

“Like what?”

“A naiad,” Robbe grins, and Sander laughs sweetly.

Robbe feels himself go hot and bubbly at the sound, and suddenly the familiar urge to pull Sander’s face to his is so strong that he has to ball his hands into fists.

It’s been like that so much lately. In the three months of knowing each other, Robbe has only felt more and more every day. More often than not, he wakes up from dreams of Sander’s mouth and hands sweating and awake in more way than one. It’s frustrating.

“What’s it like to be a naiad?” Robbe asks quietly, and Sander peers down at him.

“It’s lonely,” he says after a beat. “Most of the time it’s just me here at the spring. Sometimes I visit my friend Yasmina, but she’s a dryad from the deep forest and it’s difficult for either of us to travel that far. And I guess I used to have a... partner, but she only wanted me for my magic,” Sander says.

Robbe is a little taken aback. He didn’t expect that kind of answer.

“I didn’t...” Robbe trails off, unsure of how to finish. Didn’t know that he used to have someone? Didn’t think he felt so pessimistic?

“I can’t change it,” Sander replies simply. “I’ve accepted it by now. Besides, I’ve got you to keep me company now, hmm?” he asks as he quirks a smile down at Robbe.

“Duh,” Robbe shoots back as Sander pokes at Robbe’s diamond necklace.

Sander nudges Robbe’s head off his lap and Robbe reclines back onto the patch of soft grass they’d been lying on next to the spring. Sander wades back in and turns to look at Robbe. “You coming?” he asks with a smile.

“I’m not getting my hair wet right now,” Robbe says with a plaintive look, and Sander puts his hands on his hips.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes.”

Sander makes an upward gesture with his fingers and two twirling spires of water rise up next to him, moving with every slight twitch of his hand. “I mean, I can bring the spring to you also. Your choice,” he says casually, and Robbe squints at him as a mischievous grin tugs at his mouth.

“You wouldn’t splash me,” Robbe says confidently.

Sander wiggles his fingers and the water spires point towards Robbe playfully. “Do you want to test that theory out?” he asks, and something in his voice makes Robbe _very_ much want to test that theory out.

“Hm. Don’t want to go swimming,” Robbe says and turns up his nose, fighting an amused smile off and losing.

“I think you do want to,” Sander retorts in a sing-song voice. Robbe sits up for fully and looks at him head-on.

“If you think I want to do it so bad then why don’t you _make_ me get in,” Robbe challenges. A wicked smile crosses Sander’s face at those words.

He points at Robbe and the water flows under his command, darting towards Robbe to snake up his legs and drag him towards the water. Robbe lets out a delighted laugh as Sander draws him closer with his magic, gasping as Sander’s water vines dunk him under the water and he pops back up with a shake of his hair. His clothes and hair are soaked.

Sander steps lightly across the surface of the water until he’s standing above Robbe, who is treading water with a scowl and splashes at his legs.

“Having a nice swim?” Sander asks pleasantly, and Robbe quickly grabs his ankles and jerks him down, in hope of disrupting Sander’s magic and pulling him underwater with him. Sander makes a surprised noise and loses concentration as the water gives out beneath him and splashes down next to Robbe, who’s laughing his ass off when Sander resurfaces.

“I bet you think you’re soooo clever,” Sander grumbles, and Robbe swims closer to puts his hands on Sander’s shoulders. Sander’s arms automatically wrap around him.

“Actually, I know I’m clever,” Robbe retorts, and Sander rolls his eyes before they look at each other, happy smiles brightening their faces. Sander’s eyes drop towards Robbe’s lips, and Robbe feels his smile go slack. Suddenly, he is all too aware of how close they are, Robbe wrapped in Sander’s arms as they bob in the water. It feels like it’s getting progressively hotter.

Robbe’s eyes fall towards Sander’s lips as well, and he leans forward the barest millimeter. They’re not smiling anymore.

Just as they both start to truly reach for the other’s lips, the water becomes painfully hot, and Robbe flails as it starts to burn a little bit.

“Shit!” he yells as he splashes backwards, and a horrified look crosses Sander’s face as he guides Robbe over to the rock ledge and immediately presses his hands to Robbe’s arms, sending cooling magic tingling down his limbs.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Sander asks worriedly, and Robbe nods as the heat subsides and he’s left with Sander’s pleasantly cold magic.

“Why did the water get so hot?”

Sander blushes furiously, but doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “I don’t know. Sometimes my magic does... stuff when I’m not reigning it in,” he answers evasively. “Um. My magic should have healed you but... you should probably go home and get it checked by the apothecary.”

Robbe frowns. He really doesn’t want to leave.

“Sander...” he starts, and reaches for the naiad, but Sander stands up out of reach.

“Let me know if any pain returns after a few days and I’ll get something to help with it.”

Sander clearly won’t listen to him anymore, so Robbe wades over to the willow. Robbe brushes the leaves aside and feels a faint whisper of magic settle over him before he steps back out into the forest. He turns around sees Sander staring longingly after him, and Robbe is now completely dry.

Sander gives him a little wave, and Robbe steps forward into the woods.  
  


* * *

Zoë deftly fastens trimmed feathers to the shaft of the arrow, experienced fingers securing feathers and arrowheads safely. Senne’s hammer fills the late morning air with rhythmic clangs from the smith, and Robbe takes a deep breath. This is his time to relax with the two people who were most like the siblings he never had.

“Are you excited for the wedding?” Robbe asks curiously, and a bright smile fills Zoë’s face as she continues to work. 

“I’ve never been more excited or joyful for anything in my life,” she responds sincerely, and casts a fond look over to Senne hammering out a sword by the forge.

“That’s what I thought. I’m so happy for you, Zoë. You deserve all the joy in world,” Robbe says sincerely, and that makes Zoë pause her work as she sets down the arrow and fixes Robbe with a gentle smile. She extends her arms to him, and Robbe eagerly hops up from his seat to walk over and let Zoë wrap her arms around his waist from her chair.

Robbe runs a hand through her soft white hair, so reminiscent of Sander. “Thank you for being such a good friend,” Zoë says as she looks up, and Robbe beams down at her.

“Anything for the best fake big sister in the world,” he shoots back, and Zoë laughs. The sound catches Senne’s attention, and a gentle smile fills his features as he watches Zoë hug Robbe.

“We’ll have to start planning soon. I hope Liv returns home soon, as I’m naming her and Jana my best ladies. Senne wants Prince Eliott to be one of his men of honor, but there’s been unrest in the Kingdom of the Franks, so I imagine he’ll be asking you and Milan instead. But don’t tell him I told you,” Zoë says, and Robbe shakes his head.

“Our secret,” he promises.

Robbe goes to sit down at the table opposite Zoë, and she resumes her work on his arrows. Robbe’s eyes close for a minute with the rhythmic beat of the sounds of the smith, before he grabs a small piece of wood from the work bench and starts to whittle a figure while Zoë and Senne work. It’s pleasant to keep busy like this, and pretty soon, he has the wood resembling a roughly hewn unicorn.

Some time later, Senne finishes his work on the sword and sets it aside for later as he comes over to Robbe and Zoë’s table. He kisses the top of Zoë’s head and stands behind her chair as he raises his eyebrows at Robbe.

“Shall we go see if there’s anything good at the bakery?” Senne suggests, and Robbe nods eagerly.

The three of them made their way over to the welcoming wood structure of the bakery, the delicious scent of freshly baked bread filling the air as they approach.

Senne held the door for Zoë and Robbe as they stepped inside and were greeted by the sight of Janna Mertens and Kes’s mother taking a loaf of bread from the oven.

“Hey, good morning lovebirds and stray!” Janna greeted cheerfully as she turned to beam at them, messy hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail. Robbe frowned at being called a stray but Zoë spoke before he could defend himself.

“Hi, Janna! Do you have anything good this morning?” Zoë asks, and Janna shot her an incredulous look.

“Do we have anything good. Girl, everything we have is good! But I do have some fresh sweet rolls for you all this morning if you’d like,” she offers, and Zoë nods.

“Zoë, Senne, I meant to ask if you’d like us to bake a cake for your wedding. I would be happy to,” Anika de Beus cut in, and Zoë lit up as she handed a gold piece to Janna in exchange for the rolls.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much!” Zoë gushes, and Kes’s mother smiles brightly at her.

“Good. I was going to make one even if you said no,” she teased, looking very much like her son in that instant.

Senne takes the breadbasket from Zoë as they say their goodbyes, Janna telling Robbe to send Noor and Jana her way if he saw them. Robbe shoots a salute to her on his way out the door and jogs to catch up with Zoë and Senne.

They make their way to the tree line of the forest and spread out in the soft grass. Robbe casts a longing look at the familiar majesty of the forest, and stops himself from getting up and heading deeper. The urge to see Sander whenever he was near the woods came like a second nature.

Zoë handed Robbe a roll from the basket, and he bit in enthusiastically. “You’re friends with that girl Kes dated from Amstelredamme, right?” Zoë asks between bites, and Robbe’s brow furrows.

“You’ll have to be more specific. I know a few people from Amstel,” Robbe replies, and Senne points his finger.

“Liv dated her too,” he adds, and Robbe makes an _ohhhh_ sound around his mouthful.

“You’re talking about Isa. Yeah, we’re pretty close. Why do you want to know?” he questions, and Zoë smirks.

“A messenger from Amstelredamme said she may be considering going for Liv’s hand next summer,” she replies, and Robbe’s eyes go wide.

“Ooh, she’s gonna have to compete with that boy who moved to the Germanic village. I mean, she _is_ spending quite a long time in the Deutsch towns,” Robbe says with a sparkling grin.

“Uh, yeah. It’s Kiki’s town at that,” Zoë adds, and Senne raises his eyebrows.

“That’s Noah you’re talking about. He’s working for the captain of their guard, last I heard. David... something. He’s an author too,” Senne elaborates, and Robbe nods sagely.

“His fairytale tome is at the waiting room in the smith. David _Schreibner_. I was reading it the other day. Wow, I didn’t realize Liv was visiting that town. I hope she has some good stories to share if she gets to meet David,” Robbe says admiringly. “Wish I could write stories like that. I just know how to shoot arrows.”

“And be annoying,” Senne tacks on with a smirk, and Zoë elbows him at the same time she tries to bite back a laugh.

“Don’t be mean,” she giggles as Senne wraps his arm around her and peppers her face with kisses, and Robbe rolls his eyes. God, they’ll be even worse when they’re married.

“Love hurts,” Senne retorts sarcastically, and Robbe can’t help but smile a little at that. Senne and Zoë give him twin affectionate looks and Robbe is reminded yet again how grateful he is for them.

“Ugh, I guess I love you guys too,” Robbe sighs, and Senne gives a little fistpump.

They all laugh and enjoy the warmth that the afternoon sun brings, Robbe reveling in the rare moment of relaxation. 

* * *

Robbe doesn’t see the jet black raven that shoots off through the forest canopy as he steps out from behind the willow tree. Night is already sharp and quiet in the brisk newly-autumn air, and Robbe feels renewed.

He’s been getting a little reckless lately, sinking towards a future he can’t see with little regard for the consequences. He goes to Sander three times a week or more nowadays, the warm presence of the naiad more important to Robbe than he cares to admit.

No one has noticed _yet_ , and as far as his and Luc’s mothers are concerned, he stopped visiting the spring last month. He intends to keep it that way.

Most of the village is quiet and sleeping by the time Robbe reaches the outskirts again, the only source of light or noise being the occasional candle in some the of the windows of people’s homes and the light and laughter spilling from the pub. A few of the guest windows are illuminated at the inn, and Robbe slips in through the back door, not wanting to rouse Milan or Zoë and Senne.

The stairs creak under his feet as he sneaks up to his quarters, and he breathes a sigh of relief as he manages to reach his room yet again without raising any attention. He leans against the door and pinches the bridge of his nose before he digs out the bioluminescent mushroom Sander had gifted to help light his way in the dark.

It washes the room in a gentle blue glow, and Robbe suddenly screams as he notices Lucas sitting in an armchair in the corner, stroking a huge black raven as he stares at Robbe with an unimpressed look. He looks like some kind of fucked up evil forest witch.

“You’ve been going into the forest by yourself a lot lately,” Luc says, and Robbe has to sit on the bed to try and calm his heartbeat.

“You fucking scared me!” Robb snaps at him, and Lucas stands up before he shoos the raven out the window and snaps his fingers to light the candles in Robbe’s rooms.

“Funny you should say that,” Lucas says as he crosses his arms and stares down at Robbe, “because I could say much the same towards you. You’re still going to that spring,” he accuses, and Robbe feels his heart completely stop instead of just slowing.

“I am not!” Robbe tries to defend, but Luc simply gives him a disappointed look.

“Listen,” he says as he sits down beside Robbe. “You might be able to fool our mothers, but you can’t fool me. Or Jens, I should mention. You _reek_ of ancient water magic. And you’re always walking around with- with this godsamn protection charm or something that just makes you seem so weird. Like, you have this magic around you that just repels danger and makes you feel untouchable to other people. I can’t really explain it, it’s so much stronger and complicated than any magic I’ve ever encountered.”

Robbe feels his hand drift toward his diamond necklace, and Lucas’s eyes narrow in on the movement. “You know?” Luc asks, and Robbe shakes his head.

“I don’t know if can I talk about it,” Robbe whispers, and the side edges of anger Luc had been carrying in his shoulders bleed into a total picture of concern.

“Robbe. I told you you can talk to me about anything. What’s going on?” Lucas asks gently.

Robbe stares at him fearfully. “I think I’m starting to fall in love,” he blurts out, and Luc quickly masks his shock by drawing Robbe into a tight hug which they both cling to.

“Who is it?” Luc asks carefully, and Robbe sniffs as he swipes a hand across his eyes.

“Sander,” he responds in a warbling tone, and Luc’s brows furrow. “He... is the naiad I’ve been seeing ever since I was sent to kill the wolf. He’s just so... compassionate and beautiful and wonderful and funny and I can’t, Luc. I can’t- not love him,” Robbe starts to cry.

Lucas holds him as he finally lets it all out, the doubt, feelings, all of it. Robbe had never felt this way before, and to think that it was a _naiad_ who Robbe feared would never love him back. Why would such an magical and powerful being like Sander choose not only a human, but a human as weak and cowardly as himself?

“He’d never love me back,” Robbe cries, “especially not someone like me.”

Lucas leans back to look Robbe in the eye. “Don’t you say that,” he says, unreasonably serious. “Perhaps Sander seems unattainable and distant, but you better believe me when I say he’d be lucky to love you, Robbe. You deserve love.”

Robbe blinks in surprise at the force of his declaration.

“Have you ever been in love?” Robbe asks hesitantly, and a painful look crosses Lucas’s face. He is quiet for a long time before he nods.

“I think you know who,” he says lowly, and Robbe looks at Lucas’s profile, his curly hair flopping over his forehead.

Neither of them speak.

Robbe wraps his arm around Luc’s shoulder and his friend leans into him.

“I think... the universe has a funny way of working things out in unexpected ways,” Luc whispers.

Out the window, stars sparkle over the tops of the buildings in town. “I’m inclined to agree,” Robbe replies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TIME TO VOTE: would you guys like to see van der stoffels, or luc/kes, or luc/OC who would obviously be the poc Dutch even we deserve, or do y’all just want to be mean as fuck and not have Lucas find love. Let me know in the comments!! also this chapter was supposed to be much longer and cohesive but I kept jumping ahead to other scenes later in the fic and got carried away whoops


	4. Lovers like the October Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kisses, misunderstandings, and apologies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve reached the chapter which earns this fic the M rating due to sexual content, so go forth as you are most comfortable! time to rejoice everyone the somewhat slow burn is reaching its end! but be warned... good things don’t come easily 👀 I’m going to be teasing a luc/jens/kes love triangle for a hot sec here but I *have* decided what direction to take Luc’s love life in thanks to your input!! Sorry ‘bout the slightly short-ish update but this wound up being tricky to write and I feel like it found an organic ending spot earlier than expected. Enjoy!

The forest has turned into a beautiful fire with the onset of autumn, bright oranges and yellows and reds rendering it magnificent and bright at all times, even as some of the leaves start to brown at the edges.

The air is crisp and hopeful as Robbe’s feet carry him down his now well-beaten path deeper into the forest towards Sander’s spring. A few sparrows flutter and chirp overhead and Robbe feels content as his cloak swishes around his feet. The soft brown of his clothes blend in with the tree trunks and he walks undisturbed.

The willow comes into his field of vision, and Robbe picks up his pace to reach it and clear the thick wands out of the way. He is used to the sudden drop into the water by now, and manages not to fall in as he skirts around the edges of spring to the grassy bank. It’s perpetually spring and warm in this tiny bubble of peace protected magically from unwanted eyes. He sits down and waits for Sander to appear.

“Sander?” Robbe calls out hesitantly after a moment.

Suddenly, the naiad’s head pops up from a stand of reeds as if he’d materialized straight from the water, and Robbe isn’t so sure he didn’t.

“Hey, archer,” he greets with a mischievous smile as he bats the reeds away to come sit by Robbe. Sander’s usual white robe is instead merely tied around his waist this time, and Robbe flushes. “How’s it going?”

Robbe pulls his bow and quiver over his head and sets them off to the side as he opens his hip pouch and produces a small honeycake. Sander lights up and accepts it eagerly. “Pretty good. Thought I’d take a wander around the forest and see if there were any mysterious naiads about,” Robbe replies and Sander smirks as he takes a bite from his cake.

“Well, mission accomplished.”

Sander takes another nibble from the cake before he notices Robbe hadn’t brought one for himself. “Did you want a bite?” he asks curiously and Robbe shakes his head.

“No, I brought it for you,” he responds, and Sander scoots closer.

“Okay, but since it’s mine that means I can decide to share it. Open up,” Sander orders, and Robbe hesitantly parts his mouth.

Sander pushes the cake forward so Robbe can take a bite, and their eyes meet as Robbe’s mouth closes around it and he chews carefully. Sander pops the rest of the cake in his mouth, their eyes still locked, and Robbe is painfully aware of the way his mouth had just been on the sweet too. Sharing food had never stricken Robbe as a sensual act, but the way they were looking at each other during it made it so.

“How’s it taste?” Sander questions quietly after they’d both swallowed, and Robbe nods.

“Mind-blowing,” he responds with a playful smile, and a curious look settles on Sander’s face.

“That’s good to hear,” Sander mumbles, eyes suddenly dragging down to stop on his lips. Robbe’s heart starts to beat faster and he can’t help but let his gaze drop to Sander’s lips.

“Did you want another taste?” Sander teases as he cocks his head to the side, and heat creeps up Robbe’s neck. Sander cracks up like he always does when he talks to Robbe that way, like they _both_ usually do, but Robbe can’t summon a laugh. Or even a smile.

“Yeah,” Robbe replies, entirely seriously. For what feels like the millionth time since meeting Sander, Robbe feels like he might die if he doesn’t kiss him now. His fingers twitch as he realizes this is the moment he’s about to just go for it.

Before he can think about it, Robbe’s hand is reaching out of its own accord to cup the back of Sander’s head and pull him into a messy kiss. Sander makes a muffled noise of shock against his mouth as Robbe’s teeth press painfully against the inside of his lip. It’s only a moment, but Sander literally melts in his hands and Robbe reels back in shock to see Sander re-solidify from water to naiad.

“Sorry, sorry-“ Sander gasps before his hands are twisting in the front of Robbe’s tunic and they’re kissing again, this time with much more finesse as Robbe’s mouth slots open against his.

“Sander,” Robbe gasps between breaths, a hot sensation warming him from head to toe as he chases the taste of honeycake from Sander’s mouth.

And then it all shatters when Sander pulls away, and Robbe blinks confusedly. “Wait, Robbe, stop. I can’t do this,” Sander says in a panicked exhale, and lead settles into Robbe’s bones at the words.

“What do you mean... you can’t...” Robbe trails off.

“Robbe, I... I really like you, I do. But I don’t know if I can be in a relationship with you. I mean, you’re a human. I’m a naiad. An immortal naiad with moon sickness at that. Maybe we should just be friends,” Sander blurts out apologetically, and Robbe feels like something in his chest shatters.

“Okay,” Robbe replies in barely a whisper, and he hopes his smile meets his eyes. Sander starts to say something else to him, to reach out, but Robbe’s already moving, hands parting the willow and running through the forest. His eyes blur with tears. Fuck. How could he be so stupid?

He had ruined everything with Sander.  
  


* * *

“What’s got you so down?” Jens asks after Robbe silently knocks back his third mead of the night, wordlessly. Robbe just glares at him.

“Dude,” Aaron says simply, and Robbe looks down into his goblet. He feels drained.

The _maybe we should just be friends_ keeps ringing in his mind, over and over again. He had felt so happy when Sander had kissed him back, and then...

Luc and Jens share a look. “Should we talk somewhere more private?” Jens suggests gently, and Robbe manages to nod. The boys all stand up from the table and lead Robbe out into the night, guiding him to one of the fire pits by the fields. Luc gets it going with an off handed wave of his hand, and they all sit down.

“What’s going on?” Lucas asks, his face illuminated by the firelight. Robbe feels the familiar fear of opening up but pushes it down.

“It’s Sander,” Robbe says quietly, and Jens’s brow furrows.

“The naiad?” he questions, and Robbe nods.

“What naiad?” Aaron asks.

“The one I’m in love with,” Robbe sighs, and Jens doesn’t seem _too_ shocked. “I’ve been seeing him ever since I killed the wolf four months ago, and we became really good friends but- I fucked it all up, I fell in love with him and I kissed him, but he said he just wants to be friends,” he adds miserably.

“Have you spoken to him since you kissed?” Jens asks, and Robbe shakes his head.

“He made it pretty fucking clear, I think,” Robbe snaps.

“Well, maybe he was in shock. When Lu- um, there was a time that someone kissed me that I didn’t even think liked me, and I was so surprised I couldn’t move,” Jens says, and it looks suspiciously like Lucas is blushing, or else it’s just the fire.

“Yeah, I get that! Sometimes people just need to explain themselves better,” Aaron chimes in helpfully.

“Maybe you should go back to Sander and talk to him again,” Luc suggests, and Robbe scowls stubbornly.

“I’m not talking to him right now,” Robbe says a little childishly, as if he isn’t a young man of 21 summers.

“Well, ultimately it’s your choice. But we’re just saying maybe consider it. You obviously care about him a lot,” Jens says with a pointed look as he pokes the fire with a stick. Robbe grabs his own stick and moodily hits at the flames.

Luc seems to sense that he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, and starts to ask Aaron about his stint helping Luc’s mother instead. Robbe is grateful for the distraction, and eventually they get him laughing from Aaron’s wild stories.

When the moon begins to sink lower in the sky, they all decide to go home. Robbe sleeps fitfully that night, and it’s evident in the way he drags his feet the next day.

“Someone’s tired,” Senne comments over breakfast in the inn the next morning. He, Senne, Milan and Zoë are all seated together at their specific table in the corner of the dining room while some of the other guests mill about, waking up. Robbe glares at Senne over his cup of tea.

“I’m tired of a lot of things,” Robbe grumbles, and Milan sets a gentle hand on his arm.

“Well, if you need to share your exhaustion with anyone, we’re all here,” he says kindly.

Zoë nods in agreement. “Seriously. You’re not a part of the inn family for nothing!”

Robbe doesn’t know what to think about everyone caring so much. It feels so weird. When he was younger, the boys didn’t listen as much. The only people he felt safe unloading on were Milan and Isak, and Isak very rarely came down from the North and Robbe hadn’t seen him since he was fourteen summers old, seven years ago. It was difficult opening up, and even though he had managed it last night, it was a challenge. He hated feeling weak, and oddly enough, like people were asking all the time.

But he knew his little inn family. They had always been there for him.

“I’m in love with someone,” Robbe finally says, slowly. Zoë, Senne and Milan are all patiently quiet as they let him continue.

Robbe recounts his story with Sander, the months of friendship that had culminated in the disaster two nights ago. The trio all nod as he finishes.

“First love is hard, Robbe,” Milan says sympathetically, and Robbe laughs bitterly.

“That’s just it. He’s not even my first love. But why the hell did he kiss me back so long only to say that?!” Robbe demands, and Senne extends a steady hand to him. Robbe accepts it and lets Senne squeeze his hand tightly.

Zoë sets her mug down. “I’m sure the boys may have already said this, but maybe he’s scared, Robbe. Maybe he’s afraid of hurting you.”

“He’s only hurting me by pushing me away,” Robbe grumbles.

“Then tell him that,” Senne says firmly.  
  


* * *

“Hey,” Luc says as he nudges Robbe’s shoulder. A faint smile works its way onto Robbe’s face at the sight of his friend, and he slumps back against the trunk of the oak tree as Luc sinks down next to him. “The hell are you doing?” Luc adds with a confused look when he notices the pile of acorns and the basket next to Robbe, and Robbe’s smile turns more genuine as he laughs.

“Kes’s mother and Janna asked me to shuck some acorns since apparently I’m moping around and doing nothing. Janna specifically said I need to do something with my hands other than jerk off,” Robbe answers with a smirk, and Lucas laughs brightly.

“Can’t say I’m surprised she said that. It is Janna, after all,” Luc replies, and Robbe nods as he picks the husk off one more acorn before throwing it in the basket. “I hate to change the subject, but I did come to find you for a reason. I wanted to ask if you’ve decided to talk to Sander at all,” Luc says bluntly, no hint of judgment in his voice. Leave it to the witch to cut right to the chase.

Robbe doesn’t respond for a moment. He had been thinking about it- for three days straight- but he still wasn’t sure. He wanted so badly to reach out to Sander, but was scared of what he might say.

“I want to talk to him, but I don’t know if I can face him right now,” Robbe mumbles into his lap.

“If you want to talk to him, you don’t have to do it face-to-face. Are you forgetting I’m magic?” Luc says with a twinkle in his eye. 

Robbe looks up questioningly. “How would you do that?” he asks, and Lucas winks at him before whistling sharply. Soon, a robin swoops down from the sky and lands delicately on Luc’s outstretched hand. Robbe beams and traces a finger down the soft back of the bird.

“Tell it what you want to tell Sander and I’ll enchant the bird to find him and relay your message,” Luc urges, and Robbe nods as the robin hops into his hands instead. He brings the up bird level with his face.

Robbe feels rather foolish talking to a _bird_ about his feelings with one of his closest friends next to him, but Robbe quashes the feeling. “Sander,” he starts shakily. “Please don’t refuse to give us a chance before we’ve even begun. I can’t imagine my life without you in it anymore, but I also can’t wait forever. So, this is it. I want you all the way, or no way at all.” Robbe finishes with a flush, and the robin chirps. Luc smiles gently at him.

“There’s no way he can say no to that,” Lucas says confidently, and Robbe shrugs.

“Well yeah, I sure fucking hope he says yes.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

That gives Robbe pause. “I don’t know. I guess... I’ll get to that if it comes to that point. But I don’t want to think about that right now,” Robbe replies, and Luc ducks his head sagely. He waves a hand over the robin and murmurs something under his breath, and then the bird is flying off into the forest.

“Sure hope a hawk doesn’t eat it,” Robbe says sarcastically as they watch the robin disappear into the forest, and Luc smacks his arm.

“Don’t _say_ that!” Luc exclaims, and they both start to crack up, Robbe feeling lighter than he had in days.

Luc leaves him to go hang out with Jana and Zoë, and Robbe heads to the apothecary to visit his mother. They play marbles at the table, and Robbe loves the way all her worries and demons seem to go away for awhile when they’re just playing like this. It’s so nice to gain a sense of normalcy again that by the time night falls and he leaves to go home to the inn, he has forgotten all about the enchanted robin.

Lisa smiles tiredly at him as he descends the stairs to his room and shuts the door behind him. The remaining dregs of sunset provide just barely enough light to see, but it doesn’t diminish the unnatural glow coming from his wash basin. Robbe freezes.

He slowly approaches the bowl and peers inside at the glowing water, which magically twist into a tiny lotus as Robbe’s breath catches in his throat. Sander.

Robbe reaches out to touch the delicate flower, and the naiad’s voice suddenly fills his head.

_Robbe_ , Sander’s voice rings, and Robbe wonders if it’s just in his head or if Milan is able to eavesdrop in on this.  _I got your message. I made a mistake. I want you in my life. All the way. I can’t promise it’ll be easy, I really can’t, but I want to try. For you. I’m sorry. I hate going so long without talking to you. It reminds me of how lonely I was before I met you. Please forgive me._

Robbe stands rooted to the spot as the flower dissipates and the glow fades away. He knows what he has to do now.

Robbe runs out of his room, half-stumbling back downstairs as he rushes past Lisa again and heads straight for the footpath into the forest. His feet crunch against the thick coat of leaf litter, and his eyes strain to make out any roots that might trip him. The diamond willow appears a few yards ahead, and Robbe finally allows himself to slow down as he approaches. He knows they should probably talk when he gets there, but the itch to see and touch Sander again is too great.

He reaches out to part the willow branches, and spots the familiar spring. The moon hangs heavy in the sky, ripe orange reflecting off the silent surface of the water.

Sander is already waiting for him, seated in the shallow water of the rock table in the middle of his spring. His stare burns Robbe’s skin as he takes his shoes off and toes into the water. Sander too stands, wearing only a loose white robe held together by a vine tied around his waist.

There in the moonlight, illuminated by an otherworldly glow, Robbe realizes.

_He is the one._

Robbe only has to take one step more before he’s plunged into the inky depths of the pool, eyes squeezed shut as he sinks deeper and deeper until two hands brush his waist. Robbe opens his eyes to see Sander floating in front him, hair forming a pale halo in the watery moonlight as they float, weightless.

Bubbles break past Robbe’s mouth as he exhales, and Sander presses forward to seal their lips together. Robbe raises his hands to cup Sander’s face as his face tilts to the side, legs kicking the water to help keep them afloat. There’s the feeling of bubbles popping against his skin as Sander runs his hands through his hair, and then oxygen rushes into his lungs with a gasp.

“Better?” Sander murmurs against his lips, and Robbe can’t be bothered to try and figure out _how_ he’s breathing (it kind of feels like his skin is covered in a sheen) or Sander is speaking so he just nods and kisses Sander again.

They twist together like reeds in the current, slowly moving until they’re half upside down and Robbe sees the moon near his feet. He slowly drags his hand down to the vine around Sander’s waist and tugs it open so that his robe billows open in the water, exposing his front to Robbe.

“I want you,” Robbe gasps as Sander ducks forward to kiss and suck at his neck, his legs instinctively coming up to hook around Sander’s waist. Sander’s magic carries his voice under the water, and he nods frantically as his hands go down to the thread lacing the front of Robbe’s breeches closed.

Sander undoes his breeches until they’re both bared for each other in the warm midnight water, and Robbe bites out a desperate sound as Sander starts to kiss him in stinging pecks from his ear to his shoulder, one hand circling securely around Robbe and the other one slowly drifting down between them.

“Sander,” Robbe breathes when he finally gets a hand on them and begins to slowly stroke them to a rhythm he can’t hear.

“Robbe,” Sander echoes faintly in his ear, and Robbe lets himself get lost to the touch and the magic and the water and _Sander_.

Sander jerks them off together as Robbe moans helplessly into his mouth, hundreds of bubbles rising to the surface from their breathing. It’s so mind-numbingly good, even if it’s just _hands_ , and Robbe never wants the white hot feeling to end. But he feels himself wind tighter and tighter with every stroke from Sander until they lock eyes, and Robbe gasps, fingers digging in too tight into Sander’s arms.

His orgasm sweeps over him harshly, and judging by the way Sander buries his face into Robbe’s neck with a hard bite, he’s in the same boat.

It starts to get hard to breathe, and Sander quickly brings them to the surface so Robbe can breathe normally on the rock table. They break the surface and Robbe sucks in a harsh breath as he pushes his hair out of his eyes. Sander laughs brightly, and Robbe squints as his face crinkles up and Sander watches the archer.

Robbe leans forward to pull him into a passionate kiss, the taste of Sander filling his mouth as the water splashes around their waists and their hands slide around wet skin. They break apart and rest their foreheads against each other, breathing in unison.

“I will choose you in every universe,” Robbe whispers. Sander kisses him again, sweeter this time.

“I’d choose you first,” he replies cheekily, and Robbe is too tired to argue, so he just laughs.

Sander settles onto his back in the water after he ties his robe back up, and Robbe his breeches, before gesturing for Robbe to join him. His magic bubbles up buoyantly, keeping them afloat easily as Robbe curls up in his arms in the water.

“We’ll figure things out, won’t we?” Robbe asks hopefully as they watch the moon.

Sander nods imperceptibly. “Of course we will,” he whispers back. 

The float around lazily until Robbe is barely able to keep his eyes open, and Sander brings him over to the bank of the spring, and Robbe blinks down sleepily at him as he stands up.

_Go home,_ Sander murmurs sweetly, and Robbe smiles as he parts the willow curtain, already knowing the sight that will greet him as his hands push out further past tall reeds. Sander whirls around in surprise when he hears Robbe behind him, magic transporting him right back to the spring. To Sander.

“I already am home,” Robbe replies, and Sander draws him into a hug that brings all the broken pieces of them back together.

If Robbe were to drown in this spring, he doesn’t think he’d mind too terribly much. It wouldn’t happen, regardless, now that he has Sander to keep him above water.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update may be a little late, as it’s a pretty big turning point and I’m trying to make sure I do it justice! Thank you so much for your continued support. You all keep me writing :)


	5. A November Most Tempestuous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbe gets sick, has meddling friends, and winds up with a new look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, everyone! I hope you’re ready for a very brief stop in angst land, because we have some big developments this chapter! Sorry about the slight delay, I had a surgery this weekend but I’m recovering well from it and happy to hop back into this world :)

Robbe woke up feeling thirstier than he ever had in his life. He threw his sweat-drenched blankets off and stumbled towards his desk for the pitcher of water he always kept in his room, and downed it quickly. The relief was temporary, but it was there as Robbe gasped for breath and tried to get a grip on what was wrong.

But every second without water made it hard to breathe, so Robbe practically fell downstairs in his sleep clothes and ran out of the inn for the well in the center of town. His hands shook as he drew up the bucket and drank deeply, the water ice cold from the winter air. He drew bucket after bucket, until finally he fell back and started coughing, attracting the attention of Zoë as she stopped in her steps, dropping a bundle of cloth.

“Robbe? Are you okay?” she asked worriedly, and he nodded his head dazedly. He still felt so thirsty.

But somehow, Robbe knew where he needed to go.

“I’m fine,” he rasps, throat still dry as he starts for Nordforêt.

Muscle memory alone leads him to the magic willow that conceals Sander’s spring from unwanted eyes. Sander’s head shoots up in alarm when he sees Robbe come half-running towards the water, falling to his knees on the banks to lower his face to the water.

“Robbe?” he says urgently, and he suddenly appears beside his side, hands going out to grab his shoulders. Robbe comes back up for air sputtering and drenched, tears mixing with the fresh warm water of the spring.

“Sander, something’s wrong,” Robbe gasps.

Sander quickly lays a hand on his forehead and nearly recoils. “Fuck,” he hisses, and stands up, helping Robbe with him.

“What’s happening?” Robbe demands, voice still wobbly as he holds on to Sander for dear life.

“Robbe, I... fuck, I knew this was going to happen! I was so stupid to think it wouldn’t! I can’t- now isn’t the right time to tell you everything but you’re sick. You have a magical sickness,” Sander says rapid-fire, and Robbe’s world suddenly stops spinning to give him one moment of clarity.

_You be careful that naiad doesn’t drown you too_ , Lucas’s mother had said.

Sander is holding him so tightly that it’s starting to sting, and Robbe looks at him with an expression so full of raw hurt that his grip slackens.

“Did you do this?” Robbe asks, voice deadly-soft and clear for the first time all morning, and Sander’s fearful expression is all he needs to see.

Robbe wrenches out of his hold and stumbles backwards. “Why would you do this to me? Sander, I don’t understand,” Robbe says, and absolutely despises the way that tears start to flow anew from his eyes.

“Robbe, please listen to me. This isn’t something I ever meant to happen. You don’t understand,” Sander reaches back out for him, but Robbe flinches away from him, still scared and confused.

“Get away from me,” Robbe snaps, and turns on his heel to leave the spring, forcing down the feeling of dry and choking and hurt.

“No, you need to _listen to me!_ ” Sander yells, and Robbe freezes at the way the entire forest seems to to go utterly silent and a flash of magic whips through the air so hard that it brushes against every molecule of blood in his body. Robbe turns around to face him and Sander has tears in his eyes as well, hands fisted by his sides as a huge wave of water stays suspended in the air behind him.

“Yes, I did do this to you, Robbe, but I never meant to. There are some things I can’t control. For example, me. I have moon sickness. You know that,” he says, and Lucas thinks of Jana’s mother talking about how Aaron’s mother is infected with the very same invisible illness which causes her moods and actions to change like the phases of the moon, and that even if the villagers can’t see her illness it’s there and it is their duty to still treat Mamma Jacobs with respect and kindness. His own mama has something along similar lines.

Sander keeps going and Robbe truly listens.

“You have the cœur aqueux, which is the sickness all naiads give to their human beloveds. When we fall in love with one mutually, it is truly like drowning. Our kind is cursed to drown people in any way we can, unlike the sirens who do it by choice. There are cures, yes, but I don’t know how I could live with some of them. I don’t know what to do.”

Robbe stays quiet for a long time, until the wave behind Sander splashes back down into the spring and his shoulders sag.

“You love me?” is the only thing Robbe can think to say.

Sander gives him an incredulous look and takes a tentative step forward towards Robbe. “You must be kidding, Robbe. How can you not tell? I love you.”

A shiver wracks Robbe’s body, and he takes a step forward to mirror Sander, until they both approach each other and Sander gently lays his hands on Robbe’s waist, Robbe cupping his face in return. With Sander in his arms, Robbe doesn’t feel so sick anymore.

“I’m glad to get a verbal confirmation on that,” Robbe says, earning a breathy chuckle from Sander as they brush their noses together.

They move in sync towards a kiss, eyes closing as Robbe tilts his head up to meet Sander’s lips. It’s soft and brief.

“I never wanted to do this to you,” Sander whispers, their foreheads tilted against each other. “I’m so sorry.”

Robbe takes his hands. “What can we do? You said- there are cures?” Robbe asks hesitantly, and Sander closes his eyes.

“Some of them are out of the question. I know of four cures. There’s one I refuse to try- where I drown you, and if the love is true, you survive and the sickness goes away. A second option would be for me to sacrifice my spring and my magic. Third, what some of the dryads from the deep woods say, is that we would have to secure the blessing of the ocean, but no one knows what that means or how to do it. Or, if either of us were to fall out of love, it would go away. There is also the placebo of simply drinking a sufficient amount of water from my spring every day. But all of these are so inconvenient and dangerous I just don’t know what to say. The only one I would be willing to do is sacrifice my spring.”

“Absolutely not,” Robbe says flatly. “I can’t ask you to give your life up for me.”

“If I have to I will,” Sander says fiercely. “These woods do not hold much for me anymore.”

Robbe shakes his head profusely. “Not right now. Please. We have time to think about it, don’t we? We’ll figure something out. Besides, you said I can drink from your spring daily and it will help. I can do that,” Robbe says, and Sander gives a frustrated huff but eventually nods his head.

“I suppose so,” he grumbles. He wordlessly procures a small flask for Robbe and dips it underwater, filling it to the brim. He takes a deep drink from it and wipes his mouth before he hands it to a frowning Robbe.

“Here. It will never empty of water from my spring now that I’ve blessed it. You won’t have to constantly come running through the forest.”

Robbe accepts it shyly and reaches out for Sander. Sander pulls him tight against his chest, and Robbe’s hands fist in the soft white fabric of his robe as he lets Sander hold him. Robbe moves his arms forward from around Sander’s neck to cup Sander’s face as he pulls him forward into a crammed kiss.

Sander kisses him back hungrily, and they part to rest their foreheads against each other.

“I’ll do whatever I can to keep you safe and stay with you. I’m not used to this, but I think we’ll make it work,” Sander whispers gently against his lips, Robbe’s hands still on his cheeks, and Robbe nods.

“Love has never been easy. That’s why they write so many stories about it,” Robbe replies, and Sander laughs brightly.

“In that case, I guess we’ll give someone one hell of a story to write about.”

With that, Sander pulls Robbe back into the spring, and he goes with a willing splash.  
  


* * *

The fields are barren and frost-covered at this time of year having all been harvested last week, and a handful of villagers are starting to prepare them for the snow markets, arrival of the Fjordlandet, and the Winter Solstice next month. Robbe spots Noor and Janna helping to haul out thick rugs and wooden slats to start the construction of the first stalls. It brings a smile to Robbe’s face to see the first signs of the winter festivities everyone eagerly awaited yearly.

Senne, Jayden, and Luka caught Robbe’s eye, hauling more wood out to the fields in their thick cloaks and gloves, and Robbe skirted around Jana and Engel’s fathers to go help them.

“Hey, Robbe, thanks,” Senne greets him as Robbe wedges a shoulder under the large board and their going gets much quicker. Jayden offers him a smirk over the wood, which Robbe returns as Luka simply nods at them.

They bring to board over to the designated spot and set it down on the rug with a thump.

“Thanks, boys,” Gijs’s mother says as she sets about getting ready to construct the stall as she waves her son over. Jayden and Luka stick around to help out some more, but Robbe and Senne are told they can go so they return back to the village together.

“You guys look cold,” Jens’s voice pipes up behind them, and Robbe and Senne turn to see him smiling at them, extending two steaming mugs of spiced cider that they accept eagerly.

“Mm, yup,” Robbe mumbles before he takes a deep drink from the mug, sputtering slightly at how hot the liquid is. Jens smirks at his falter, and Robbe rolls his eyes as he falls into step with them.

“Excited for next month?” Jens questions, and Robbe nods eagerly.

“I can’t wait, the Fjordlandet and the Solstice Festival... it’s gonna be awesome,” he gushes, and Senne nods.

“Yeah, maybe you’ll finally actually be around town more instead of in the forest. But wait a minute, I’ve hardly seen you since you said you were gonna make up with Sander a few days ago. Spill. Now,” Jens demands, and Robbe frowns slightly but tries not to let it show.

“Are you guys all good now? Did you... talk it out?” Senne tacks on, and Robbe feels a furious blush rise to his face that definitely does _not_ go unnoticed.

“Holy shit! You had sex, didn’t you!” Jens exclaims at Robbe’s red face, and Robbe whirls to clap a hand over his mouth.

“Don’t say that so loud!” Robbe hisses, and Senne’s eyebrows shoot up at the same time that Jens starts to sport a shit-eating grin.

“My god, here I was thinking our innocent town archer was more mature than the lot of us, but no, turns out he can’t help himself in the face of a pretty boy just like most of us normal people,” Jens laughs, and Senne starts to laugh with him.

Senne pats his shoulder. “Nothing to be ashamed of,” Senne says in what Robbe is sure is meant to be a brotherly, reassuring way, but instead makes Robbe want to go strangle himself with a willow wand.

“What was it like? I mean, he’s not human, so I’m just a little curious...” Jens trails off, and Robbe goes even redder.

“What the fuck do you think it was like? Please don’t ask if he has tentacles, because he does not. He’s pretty much an average human male. You can use your imagination for that,” Robbe retorts haughtily.

Jens and Senne’s laughter raise in volume, and Robbe scowls into his mug as they stake out the rocking chairs outside the bakery to sit down in.

“Sorry, sorry Robbe, you know we love you,” Senne chuckles, and Robbe just rolls his eyes.

“Yeah right,” Robbe grunts as he takes a quick swig from his flask, and Jens takes notice.

“Bit early for drinking?” Jens questions with a nod to Robbe’s flask, and Robbe runs a hand across his face, the playful mood completely killed.

He puts it back on his hip and sighs. “It’s not alcohol. It’s water,” Robbe mumbles, and Jens smirks, but Senne seems to have caught onto his serious tone and is watching him curiously.

“Like I believe that,” Jens replies, and Senne’s frown deepens.

“It doesn’t smell like alcohol,” Senne notes.

“Because it’s _not_ ,” Robbe stresses again. “I’ve really gotten into this time. Things with me and Sander are good now, but... fuck, I don’t even know what to say.”

He winds up rehashing the explanation Sander had offered him yesterday morning and by the time Robbe works through the story, both Jens and Senne look rather frightened.

“...but I’m not gonna die. _Yet_ ,” Robbe reiterates, but that doesn’t seem to soothe them at all.

“Robbe, what the hell? Have you spoken to Luc’s mother about this? Out of everyone, she should know what to do,” Senne suggests, and Robbe offers him a sheepish smile.

“So, about that,” he starts. “I kind of told Flor and my mother that I wouldn’t go to see Sander again. Like, three months ago?”

“Robbe!” Jens exclaims and smacks his arm.

“We’re not fucking kidding. You need to go talk to Flor. You can’t let this... heart sickness, whatever it is, hurt you anymore,” Senne says, and Robbe gives a frustrated huff.

“But I told you! Me and Sander have it under control, I have the flask,” Robbe replies, and Jens shakes his head.

“Nuh-uh, not good enough, buddy. You’re not going through this alone. We’re gonna get some legit advice,” Jens states firmly, and then he and Senne are standing, tugging Robbe to his feet with them.

“We’re going to the apothecary,” Senne says, voice leaving no room for argument. Robbe sulks behind them as they lead the way, and when Senne opens the door, Jens’s dog barrels out and Jens catches him with a laugh.

“Kaneel! Down, sweet boy, we gotta get Robbe inside,” Jens laughs as Kaneel licks his face and he ruffles his fur. When they get inside, Jens’s father is busy doing paperwork at the counter and watches them wordlessly as they head into the Van der Heijden’s section of the building, the sweet scent of dried flowers filling the air.

“We’ll be around,” Senne promises with a nudge to Robbe’s shoulder as they hang behind and leave Robbe to step deeper down the hallway. Mama’s room is empty when he pokes his head in, as is Lucas’s, but he finds Luc’s mother in the back study, powders and drawings surrounding her at a large desk.

“Robbe?” she questions, and gestures for him to step further into the room. She waves at the door and it shuts with a soft click behind him as she summons a chair over and her desk neatly tidies itself.

“How’s mama?” Robbe asks shyly, and mejuffrouw Van Der Heijden smiles gently.

“She’s out back doing laundry right now. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to see you later, if you’d like to stick around,” Flor replies, and squints at him. “But I can sense that’s not why you’ve come to see me today. There’s something... off about you,” she says with a frown, and Robbe blushes, hand coming up to toy unconsciously with his diamond necklace.

“Senne and Jens wanted me to speak with you about a sickness I have,” Robbe finally says after a beat, and Flor immediately appears every inch the concerned mother as she pulls her long chestnut hair back into a curly ponytail and leans forward to inspect Robbe. Her hands smell of chamomile when she sets them on his cheeks and stares deep into his eyes, her expression melting when she recognizes Sander’s magic on him.

“Oh Robbe, darling, what have you gotten yourself into?” Flor sighs. “I told you not to go messing around with that naiad, and now look at where you’ve wound up. You’re not well.”

“I don’t care that I’m sick. Just as long as I get to be with him,” Robbe mumbles, and Lucas’s mother leans back in her chair to give him a scrutinizing look.

“Your mother will be happy you’ve moved on from Jens, at least,” she jokes, and Robbe groans.

“Oh, come on! That was years ago!” he complains, and she laughs lightly until it peters out and Robbe is unable to meet her gaze much longer. She and Mama are so similar sometimes it hurts.

“Does he love you too?” mejuffrouw Van Der Heijden questions gently, and Robbe nods imperceptibly.

He picks up a dried mint leaf and watches it crumble between his fingers. “That’s part of the problem,” Robbe says lowly, “...that we’re... in love. The reciprocality creates the illness. Nobody knows much about it, not even Sander.”

Flor wipes down her apron before she takes Robbe’s hand. Robbe accepts it gratefully, and her fingers tickle his skin with her earthy magic. “I may not know how to help you with this specifically, but please don’t be afraid to come to me and your mother for help. We’re always here to support you. Keep me updated on this,” Flor requests, and Robbe nods as they both stand up. She embraces him in a warm hug, and Robbe lets himself exhale heavily. “We can talk more about this later, if you’d like, but I think you need a breather. Your mother is in the back,” Flor says, and Robbe is always grateful for her powerful intuition as he heads out of the study.

Surely enough, Mama is busy scrubbing fabric against a washboard in the chores-room, water splashing up her arms and onto her rolled up sleeves. She looks up when she hears Robbe enter the room, and immediately brightens. “My beautiful son! Come here!” she exclaims, and draws Robbe close to her to kiss his cheeks.

Robbe sits down on a stool next to her and lets himself relax after he takes a sip from his flask. It’s okay to relax around Mama, no matter how old he is.

Mama asks him about what he’s been up to and Robbe obliges, filling her in on hanging with the boys, and the lighter parts of his story with Sander, which she thankfully receives with warm reception.

“I’d like to meet this Sander who makes my son so happy,” she says with a smile, and Robbe blushes.

“I’ll try to bring him around when I can,” Robbe replies, the _if Sander can even visit the village at all_ and _if you’re doing okay_ going unsaid. Mama nods eagerly and pats Robbe’s hand.

“I know you will,” she adds confidently. Robbe debates telling her about the sickness, but eventually decides against it. He doesn’t want to worry her right now when she’s doing so well, and besides. He’s feeling much calmer about it now. He will tell her if he needs to, in the future 

Mama pauses her washing and squints at Robbe. “You know what would look good on you?” she asks, and Robbe is a little taken aback at the sudden question.

“What?”

“I think you’d look nice with pierced ears.”

Robbe blinks in surprise. That had come out of seriously nowhere. But Mama does have a point- he’d thought about it few months ago until it had slipped his mind.

“You think so?” Robbe responds with a crooked smile. Mama hums contentedly.

“Of course. Flor has been making a lovely pair of earrings for Lucas for Winter Solstice, and I was simply thinking about how I would like to make you one or two as well,” Mama says. She smiles to herself and reaches into her apron pocket, producing a small silver hoop. “Well, I did make one with Flor. It seemed fun and that Senne had come over to help us with it. Wonderful young man. I thought you might like to have it in case you choose to pierce your ears one day,” Mama says, and drops the hoop in Robbe’s outstretched hand.

It’s perfectly smooth and a pleasant weight in his hand, and Robbe immediately knows he wants to wear it.

“Thank you, Mama. I’ll hold on to it,” he says sincerely, and she beams.

Which all leads up to Robbe going to the jeweler’s after he leaves the Apothecary, hoop held tightly in his fist.

Jana is all too happy to hold Robbe’s hand while Luka puts a firm hand on his shoulder and pierces the hoop through Robbe’s ear and quickly rubs a salve from the Apothecary on it so it won’t bleed or become infected.

“Wow, looking good!” Jana compliments as she offers a mirror to Robbe to check out his appearance. Robbe turns his head side to side, admiring how the silver hoop gleams and compliments him. Mama was right- it looks great.

“Thanks,” Robbe says to Luka, shaking hands and offering a gold piece for the job. Jana smiles primly and flicks at his earring gently.

“You’re gonna have the boys falling all over you more than usual,” she smirks, and Robbe laughs.

He pushes the door open and glances over his shoulder. “We’ll see.”  


The oncoming chill of winter doesn’t seem so bad anymore, now knowing he has Sander, his friends, and his family by his side.    
  



End file.
